


like I'll overflow

by acastle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Blood and Injury, M/M, Mafia boss Minseok, OT9 - Freeform, Porn, Porn With Plot, Sugar Daddy Minseok, Threats of Violence, Xiuharem, spoilers in the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 08:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 54,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: It starts when Chanyeol ‘borrows’ Minseok’s black denim jacket.(Minseok's boyfriends steal his clothes so that he'll have sex with them. Super effective.)





	1. jacket, necklace, sweater, pants, belt, crop top

**Author's Note:**

> based off of [@ckszkdl's](https://twitter.com/ckszkdl) tweet, with chanyeol trying to look like his goth bf minseok. this spiraled. don't let the length scare you either it's really just each member stealing an article of clothing from minseok's closet then subsequently getting fucked there's a lot less substance than you would think lol.
> 
> this is mostly smut with some story pls don't expect too much!
> 
>  
> 
> don't send to anyone mentioned ty have fun take breaks when reading this!!!

It starts when Chanyeol _‘borrows’_ Minseok’s black denim jacket.

There wasn’t any special reason as to why he’d decided to wear it today. It was Jongin’s turn at sorting the laundry and putting it in their rooms and he’d always been a little shit at it, so it had ended up in Chanyeol’s closet by accident, and he’d pondered giving it back to Minseok, but. He stared at it, hanging and looking so _sharp_ and _clean_ and _dark,_ so much like their oldest, the one they all revolved around in this little world of theirs, separate from everything else.

He tried it on, wanting to feel a little closer. And, he’d looked _good_ in it. So, he kept it on.

He remembered this jacket, too. It was what Minseok had been wearing when they’d first met, and he had been so utterly intriguing, all black ensemble and glitter around his eyes, on his lips. His hair had been purple then, and his smirk when he’d caught Chanyeol’s eyes staring, and a slight nod of his head, a beckoning to follow him to the back of the secret bar.

He’d gotten the best blowjob of his life that night, Minseok’s mouth warm and taking all of him, easily, making him moan and come and he’d swallowed it all. Chanyeol had been enchanted, effortlessly.

A few weeks later, Minseok had introduced him to the ones already with him in his group. There was Junmyeon, a senior Chanyeol had met before in an English elective course, and he’s still kind, just as smart, but dressed in darker colors and had gamely kissed Chanyeol and shoved his tongue into his mouth when Minseok had asked him to casually. There was Jongdae, with the perfect facial structure and the slightest waist, very kind, and had the most melodious moan when Chanyeol had stroked their lengths together later on. Baekhyun, who took any opportunity to wear any piece from his large collar collection and followed Minseok everywhere and always begged for kisses with a pout, who had the _best hands_ that Chanyeol came from alone, right around his dick.

He’d found himself fitting into their mold, easily, seamlessly, without even noticing. He’d moved into the old, but well-kept mansion Minseok had inherited from his loaded grandparents not long after, and the five of them lived together, intimately, like soulmates for life. Until Minseok had brought home Sehun, the most beautiful boy Chanyeol had ever laid eyes on, and then they were six. Then Kyungsoo, they were seven. Jongin, eight, and then Yixing, nine.

All of them, together, and it shouldn’t make sense, but it does. Better than anything Chanyeol had ever had and would ever hope to have, and all of them here, for each other, but especially for Minseok, who’d brought them together, who spoils them all with whatever they want: food, clothes, kisses, love, cock. Like a goth sugar daddy with a PhD in musicology and sex who wrote the most _moving_ pieces for full orchestras and conducted on the side.

It‘s been over a year, since then, since their little gang of misfits had been completed and Chanyeol is so in love with them all, but with the softest spot for their unofficial but undisputed leader. They, the rest of the seven, would say the same.

He’d done his errands the whole day after work at the studio doing a few sessions, recording and producing, feeling good and looking good in his boyfriend’s clothes, and of course, Baekhyun and Jongdae would semi-ruin it with their cackling once he’d gotten home with the groceries for the week.

 _“What_ are you _wearing?”_ Jongdae laughs, and Chanyeol pouts as he deposits the bags on their counter, Kyungsoo coming to help arrange everything. Baekhyun and Jongdae are still laughing, and the others are staring. He sees Sehun and Jongin trying to hold back on their own giggles, and he feels bad. Pouts to himself as he sorts out the food, Kyungsoo giving him a small sympathetic smile.

“It’s Minseok’s jacket,” he answers in a small voice, trying to toughen himself up for a bit, doesn’t have to feel bad about anything because he _knows_ he looks good in it. “Yixing said I looked good.”

“He does,” Yixing says, and he’s Chanyeol’s present favorite.

“Xingie, why didn’t you tell him to _button it up,”_ Baekhyun says, “His tits are out for the whole world to see. Did you forget your shirt here?”

“The ladies at the store must have quite scandalized,” Junmyeon says as he comes in from the library, and Chanyeol tries not to frown further, hold back on the sniffling. He loves his boyfriends, but they’re being mean and he’s sensitive.

“To see so many cross necklaces on such unholy skin,” Sehun says, and Chanyeol sniffs, pouts, but there’s a soft _tsk,_ and they’re all looking up.

“Now, don’t be mean to Chanyeol,” Minseok says, voice gentle but everyone listens, and he looks at them all from his place near the wide entryway to the kitchen. He’s come home late again, today. Said he’d be back around lunch, but Minseok is so busy with his music and conducting orchestras, writing his symphonies and concertos wherever and whenever he can, and it happens a lot, that he’ll be back quite late often. The most hardworking of them all. “He looks good.”

“It’s winter and he’s walking out like _that,”_ Baekhyun says, and Minseok gives him a look, and he quiets down.

“Hmm. I was looking for this,” he says, coming up to him and thumbing the jacket’s collar between his fingers. Chanyeol sniffs a little, some residual sad feelings from the others’ light hearted teasing, and Minseok gives him the _warmest_ look, gentle and tender despite the glitter and piercing eye makeup he has on, and he pulls down Chanyeol’s chin and kisses the line of his jaw, trying to comfort him. “Oh, they made you feel bad, baby?”

“No, it’s. No,” he says, not wanting to get the others in trouble, even though they _were_ mean. “Just. I liked the way I looked. Maybe, maybe I’m not meant to wear this kind of thing?”

“Nonsense,” Minseok says, and his eyes are piercing. He’s gorgeous, and Chanyeol tries not to whimper under his gaze, and it’s really a little _pathetic,_ how just one look from him makes him want to get on his knees, but it’s been months since he’d felt ashamed of feeling like this. He knows the others feel the same way, anyway, too. “You’re _gorgeous._ Delectable. I don’t want you thinking that way, ever. You wearing my clothes…”

He trails off, looking at him, and Chanyeol feels flushed, warm even in the bare covering of the jacket, and there are fingers under his chin, and Minseok is pulling him down and kissing him, right in front of everyone else.

Chanyeol whines, opening his mouth at the first graze of Minseok’s tongue on his bottom lip, and they lick into each other, their kiss getting sloppy but _so good,_ silky and messy and dirty and Chanyeol hears someone, he suspects Baekhyun, whimper loudly as they watch them.

“Hmm. We’re going out,” Minseok says, nonchalantly, unaffected, as if he hadn’t just stolen the breath from Chanyeol with his tongue and lips power. Chanyeol stands, winded and dazed from the thorough make out, barely registering Minseok’s warm hand taking his, steering him out.

“But. Dinner?” Kyungsoo is asking, and even _he_ sounds a little choked, overwhelmed at their display.

“We’ll be back by then,” Minseok answers, and Chanyeol follows him, linking their fingers together and clinging on to him and nipping on his neck, his ears, like the dependent, needy thing he is. Not that he’s _really_ dependent. He works and earns and everything, but it’s so _nice,_ to be spoiled by someone and treated well and lovingly and Minseok really gives him everything he wants and needs, even things he hadn’t even known he’d wanted.

He’d had thought, that sharing Minseok would mean jealousy and wanting more, but. It’s not the case at all; with Minseok, he’d gotten seven other beautiful, _wonderful_ men who made him smile and loved him and he loves them, and they all take care of each other well.

Just. Not tonight. They made fun of his clothes, _Minseok’s_ clothes, and they’re on the awful list, for tonight.

Minseok makes him get into the passenger’s seat of the Aston Martin no one’s _ever_ allowed to touch, a hard-earned gift Minseok had given himself after the last orchestra piece he’d composed had debuted to rave reviews and an intense revenue bonus, according to Junmyeon, and Chanyeol tries to hide his grin, thinking of all the whining Baekhyun would make once he finds out Chanyeol had been the first one Minseok had taken on a ride in the car.

“Where are we going?” he asks, latching on to the hand Minseok sets on his thigh.

“Hmm. Just out to the woods in the back,” he says, and it’s still so disarming, how wealthy Minseok is, to have this place that’s really an estate, so big that it has its own _forest,_ that he can provide and spoil all of them the way he does.

Minseok drives, silence comfortable between them, and Chanyeol leans over to kiss his neck, his cheek, anywhere he can reach, and Minseok hums, letting him, equally generous with his touches. Chanyeol _loves_ him.

He stops around five minutes away from the house, parks the car where the trees don’t quite block out the light of the moon and Minseok turns to look at him. Chanyeol feels himself get warm under his gaze, like he always does, and Minseok kisses him, gently, then not at all, teeth nipping at Chanyeol’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, licking him, getting him so, _so_ hot.

“Ah, _ah,_ why are we here, Minnie?” Chanyeol tries, pausing between words, overwhelmed, trying to lean into his mouth more, and he shivers when Minseok starts licking down his throat, down his chest, and he throws his head back on the seat, breathing hard.

“Wanted time alone with, away from everyone, baby,” he says, and Chanyeol gasps when he moves the jacket slightly, gets his mouth on his nipples, hard and peaking from the cold and arousal. “That okay with you?”

“Y-yeah, but,” he breathes, arching into his touch, getting his hands on Minseok’s shoulders, broad, and if Chanyeol has any complaints about his clothes, it’s that they always cover him _too_ much. “Why not just walk here? Seems like a waste of gas, _oh.”_

“Hmm,” Minseok hums as he presses his palm over Chanyeol’s crotch again, making him gasp a little louder. “I wanted to fuck you on my car, that’s why.”

“O-oh,” Chanyeol moans, letting Minseok pop the button of the jacket open, let’s him roam his hands around. He feels good, always does, and the dark and the confines of the space make it feel even better. Baekhyun is going to get so _pissed_ that he has first fuck privileges. He can’t wait.

“You like that idea, baby?” Minseok says, trailing a hand down his chest, over the chains of the crosses, down, down to where he’s already hardening in his jeans, unbuttoning, unzipping and opening the flap a little, cocking an eyebrow at what he’s met with.

“Dirty, naughty boy, not wearing any underwear, hmm?” he hums, getting his small but infinitely skilled hand around his length, his touch making him all that much harder. Chanyeol groans, and he doesn’t stand a chance. “You didn’t just forgo a shirt, hmm? Those grocery ladies _would_ get scandalized.”

“Oh, _oh, Minnie._ Please,” he whines, pushing his half-hard cock into his palm, wanting a little more.

“Want it, gorgeous?” Minseok asks him, voice slow and like honey, rich, and Chanyeol nods frantically, breathing audible as he adjusts in his seat, making to move to the backseat where they can finally get a move on and fuck, but Minseok’s hand on his wrist stops him.

“Where are you going, Yeolie?” Minseok asks, tilting his head back down so they’re eye to eye. Chanyeol swallows, throat dry with want.

“To the back? So we can, um. You know,” he says, blushing stupidly, and Minseok blinks, before giving him a fond, affectionate look, full of love.

“Not there, darling.”

“Oh, so. Um, here?” he says, trying to swing his legs over Minseok’s lap over the console, but Minseok laughs gently, stops him from moving.

“No, Yeolie. I said _on_ my car, not in,” he explains patiently, fingers on Chanyeol’s lips and prying them slightly open. Chanyeol doesn’t think, automatically opens his mouth, and Minseok dips his finger in slightly, just to tease, just something for him to suck on. His eyes are dangerous, sharp, and Chanyeol feels his cock harden even further. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear. I want to fuck you, on the hood of the car.”

Chanyeol feels his stomach tighten with want, his mouth dropping open in a moan that he didn’t know he needed to release, and trust Minseok, to awaken sexual fantasies he’d never know he’d had until he suggests them.

“F-fuck,” he swears, rolling his hips a little, already feeling a little empty from not having his cock inside already. “Oh, okay. Let’s do that, then.”

Minseok smiles, almost a smirk, and he pulls Chanyeol in closer kissing him, a soft, _“Thank you, baby,”_ murmured against his mouth, and when he pulls back, his voice is low when he says, “Go out and bend yourself over on the hood, Chanyeol.”

He scrambles to obey, jolting out of his seat and pushing the car door open, much too haphazardly for such an expensive car, and he goes out to the front, laying himself over the hood and sticking his ass up and out, knowing Minseok is watching his every move from inside, can see him bending himself over for him, desperate for his cock, and it makes Chanyeol sweat with want even in the cold, makes him moan and arch a little as he sets his palms on the hood, grinding down on the hood and needing to be filled.

He’s so overwhelmed, he doesn’t even notice that Minseok had gotten out of the car, just feels hands on his waist suddenly, pulling down his pants, getting them off completely, then lips against his asscheek, making him jolt.

“Hmm, not too cold, are you?” Minseok asks him, palming his ass and slapping both cheeks once, lightly, and Chanyeol moans a little louder.

“N-no, not at all,” he says, trying to hold on to something, but the hood of the car is too smooth, the reflection on the windshield of him being slowly debauched too much to look at, and Minseok kisses over his hole, and he tries not to sob. “Oh, _daddy.”_

“Want me?” he asks, a stupid question that doesn’t need a reply, but Chanyeol answers instantly.

“Need you, _need you so much,”_ he whimpers, crying out loud in want and slight relief when Minseok dips his tongue in further, wet and breath warm against where he’s most sensitive.

“Alright, baby,” he says, and there’s a moment, then there’s a finger, slicked up with lube, circling his rim, and Chanyeol chokes on a breath, head dropping down and forehead resting against the cool metal of the hood, doing little to relieve the heat and the ache of needing to be fucked.

Minseok gets him open with his fingers, barely a second before he’s pressing gently against his prostate, and Chanyeol bites his lips hard, squeezing his ass around his fingers, fighting not to writhe around too much, breath coming out in stutters and fog in the frigid air, but he’s not cold, at all.

“You’re quite loose,” Minseok remarks, relaxed, inserting three fingers and fucking in, pace cruelly good. Chanyeol whines, raising himself up a little with his forearms on the hood, spreading his legs a little more for him. “Hmm. With who, last night?”

“Junmyeon,” he chokes out, squeezing his hands into fists when Minseok keeps going for _that_ angle.

“He was good, yes?” Minseok says conversationally, as if he wasn’t fingering Chanyeol so well he was about to cry.

“Yes, he, he was - Minnie, _daddy,_ please, please fuck me,” he sobs, can’t think of anything else but the need to be fucked, and Minseok is never selfish, proves it again tonight when there’s another short pause. A wrinkle of a wrapper being opened, and then, there is a cock, perfect against his hole, tracing where he’s open and waiting to take him.

“Hold on tight,” Minseok says, his only warning, before he drives himself all the way in, in until Chanyeol can feel his balls against his ass, can feel the pants he still has on on his skin.

“Oh, _oh, fuck,”_ he whines, groans, his own cock spurting slightly, his ass so full and he pushes back, can’t help but wriggle his butt, Minseok moaning as his cock is swallowed and taken perfectly.

“It seems like you won’t last, Yeolie,” Minseok says, pulling out slowly, only to fuck back in, even harder, hard enough that there’s a resounding slap despite his pants.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says, overwhelmed, and Minseok is so _thick,_ so perfect inside him, and he’s so _hot_ and he really won’t last for very long, too turned on.

Minseok tsks at him, one of his hands reaching under and touching his belly as he pounds into his ass. “What did I say about apologizing for feeling good?”

“Not to,” he says, gasping when Minseok rewards him with a _meltingly_ good pace, hard and fast, and he’s ramming his cock into his ass, splitting him open and Chanyeol arches his back, throwing his head back and moaning into the cold air. “Oh, _fuck._ Your, your cock, daddy, so thick-”

“Your ass just _takes me,_ so well,” Minseok praises him, hands on his waist and bringing him back on to his cock as he thrusts forward. “You’re so tight, baby, but you open right up for me.”

“Minseok,” he sobs, hands sliding on the metal as he tries to hold on for purchase, but Minseok _hammers_ into him, making it all for naught. His body moves with the pace Minseok sets as he’s fucked from behind, his body lurched forward and backward, ass rubbed raw on the jeans Minseok still has on, hole stretched wide around his length, his own cock swaying under him, as if he has no control over it. Chanyeol whines, the sounds they make sounding too much for the quiet and dark, and he clenches around Minseok’s cock, the length so _hard_ and rubbing his inner walls.

“Look at your reflection, Yeolie,” Minseok says, holding his shoulder and pulling his torso up slightly so he’s more or less face to face with the windshield, and they look like sin, together. He’s sweating, mouth perpetually open in a moan that never stops as his ass is fucked, and Chanyeol feels _amazing._

He rolls his hips, loving being _taken_ but also wanting to contribute, and it must work, as Minseok moans, hands tightening their grip on his hips as he pulls him back and impaling him with his cock, and they go even harder. Minseok _slams_ into him, fucking forward, and Chanyeol throws his ass out for him to plunge into, almost like riding him from below with how hard his ass bounces, his cheeks jiggling and Minseok holds them, squeezing as he fucks him.

The crosses he’s wearing sway as they fuck, the chains oscillating with their fucking, the pendants sometimes slapping against his chest when Minseok _rams_ in, and Chanyeol cries out as Minseok grinds into him, filling him up to the brim until he’s all he can think about.

“Oh, oh _fuck, oh god,”_ he moans, ass clenching around him. “Minseok, Minnie-”

“A little more, baby,” he says, fucking harder, then even _harder,_ until he’s all but _slamming_ into Chanyeol, his cock piercing into his body and his ass feels so _used,_ so open and stretched and Chanyeol loves it all. He finds that he can’t hold himself up any longer, his body dropping down to the car, Minseok using his unbelievable strength to bring him back to his cock and continue to fuck into him, his stamina otherworldly, and Chanyeol is there, drooling onto the the hood as he’s pounded into.

“I’m gonna come,” he cries, the heat in his belly and the ache of his cock and balls with the need to release, and Minseok pulls out wordlessly. Chanyeol doesn’t have the time to whine, however, as Minseok turns him around, hand pushing him to lie down on the car, and Chanyeol stares up at him, reaching out to touch him, anywhere, keep him close.

Minseok takes his hands, leans down slightly so he’s just near enough that Chanyeol can hold on to his hips, fingers clinging to his shirt, and Minseok brings his head down, _finally_ giving him a kiss, deep and wet and full of praise.

“So good, baby,” he says, brushing his hair away lovingly. “Always so good. You’re perfect, my lovely boy-”

“Love you, I love you, _fuck,”_ Chanyeol says, crying out a little when Minseok brings his cock back to where he’s open, pushing in and filling him back up again, and he’s screaming, filthy and in need to come, feeling so good.

“Love you too, baby,” he says, and it warms him up from the inside out, and he sobs and whimpers as Minseok straightens, and fucks him, just as hard, driving into his hole and he’s so, so close.

“Fuck me, _fuck me,”_ Chanyeol begs, and Minseok gives him this _look,_ a look that tells Chanyeol that he’s going to get what he asked for, and he delivers beautifully. His pace doubles, ramming his length into where he’s open and stretched for him, and they’re both moaning, loud and filthy and Chanyeol spreads his legs even more, wanting even _more_ of Minseok, as much as he can get.

Minseok gets a hand around his cock, and he doesn’t stand much chance. He strokes, up and down his cock as he fucks him harder still, and Chanyeol _sobs_ out his name as he snaps, cock spilling white, so much of it, so much that spots of it fleck his neck, the jacket he still has on.

His ass clenches, and he moans as Minseok doubles his speed, pounding into Chanyeol’s fluttering hole, harder and harder still, fucking him into the hood so hard Chanyeol is jostled up slightly, body at his mercy.

It seems like forever and just a moment later altogether when Minseok comes, minute thrusts into his ass as he moans and spurts, and Chanyeol doesn’t wait for him to finish before he’s pulling him down, embracing him and peppering his face with kisses, Minseok’s cock still inside him.

“I _love you,”_ Chanyeol repeats, kissing him, burrowing his face into his neck. “Love you, love you-”

“I love you, Yeolie,” Minseok says, a smile in his voice, but he kisses back, eyes bright and glinting. “How are you feeling? Was I too rough?”

“Amazing, feel _amazing,”_ he says, and he barely even remembers why he’d even felt shitty, or if he even did in the first place. Fuck his other boyfriends; he’d gotten first fuck rights on the new car and Minseok is the best. “I feel so good.”

“You _do,”_ Minseok smiles, laughing when Chanyeol just _lights up,_ and he helps him get off the hood after a few more kisses that Chanyeol asks for with an exaggerated pout.

When Chanyeol _limps_ into the kitchen after they get back for dinner, he can feel all of the eyes the others have on him, staring as he struggles into his seat with a wince, and it’s satisfying _as fuck,_ truly the best night of his life _._

“Where’d the two of you go?” Yixing asks, blinking as Chanyeol tries to adjust on the chair despite the slight ache in his bottom, and Minseok sits next to him, pulling his face towards him and kissing him so thoroughly he feels as if everyone in the room is a little winded.

“Just to the small forest in the back,” Minseok says, wiping at the spit that pools on Chanyeol’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“But. You brought your car,” Baekhyun says.

“Hmm, of course. I needed a suitable surface to debauch Chanyeol on,” he answers easily, and it goes _so quiet._ “Remind me to wipe down the hood before I leave tomorrow, hmm?”

“Yup,” Chanyeol says dumbly, but grinning stupidly when Minseok kisses him again.

“Hmm, this looks _really_ good on you,” Minseok says, touching the jacket. There are _stains_ on it, and they both know it’s obvious, but all Minseok says to add on is, “Keep it, baby. It suits you.”

“Okay,” he says, still grinning.

He’s so besotted and preoccupied with Minseok, he doesn’t even notice the glances the others share, and it starts this way.

.

.

Sehun is next.

There’s so much jewelry in the mansion, and none of them are very particular of who keeps what, and it’s mostly treated as public property.

There are a few pieces, though, that they know are Minseok’s. He doesn’t say, exactly, that they can’t borrow, but they leave those for him. The favorite is the choker necklace of black leather and silver details, and Sehun remembers this one well.

Minseok had worn it when he’d asked him to be with him, with all of them, if he’d wanted. At that point, Sehun had seen Minseok a few times, fucked in a too expensive hotel room with his head in the pillows as he was pounded into the mattress the second time they’d met, a kind, gorgeous man who’d paid for his drinks and talked to him when he was feeling lonely, fresh out of university with little prospects and a degree he didn’t care much for.

The third time, Minseok had talked to people, so many of them, and got him go-sees, so many of them. He’d gotten most of them, and Sehun was in love by the fourth time.

It had taken barely a day to pack everything he’d had, and followed this man to what seemed like the edge of the world, in a mansion with some others, all of them beautiful. Baekhyun who gave him kisses whenever he asked for them, Junmyeon who was so patient and treated him like a prince, even in bed, Jongdae with his beautiful smile that felt so nice against his mouth. Chanyeol and his endless passion for everything he does, including Sehun himself, then, later on, Kyungsoo, with the most endearing laugh and crazy gorgeous moan, Jongin who was just _beauty,_ simply, and Yixing, who gives him _everything_ he wants, and looks the most precious while doing it.

But, Minseok. Minseok who’d shown him kindness and patience from the beginning. Helped him when really no one else would, and whose smile and eyes gave Sehun a hope for everything, that his world would be a little more beautiful.

He loves them all. He knows, though, that no one would take it against him, if he’d admit out loud that Minseok might be his greatest love.

He borrows the necklace, then, curious, remembering. How Minseok had reacted when Chanyeol had worn his jacket. Chanyeol couldn’t walk properly for a whole day, and he’s been pampered and given so many kisses, and everyone had been jealous, though no one would ever admit it out loud.

So, Sehun takes the necklace from Minseok’s room, and brings it along for a magazine editorial shoot, and the stylists liked it enough that they styled a few outfits with it, laced around his neck, and. It makes him feel a little more _powerful,_ and Minseok doesn’t wear it often, even though he _should,_ such a perfect piece for a perfect man, and Sehun understands why he is particularly fond of this piece.

He’s in the midst of shooting the second to the last layout when Minseok comes into the studio, dress in a black turtleneck and black leather jacket and ripped jeans and glittering makeup dusted on his eyes and exactly like he should be the one in front of the camera, and Sehun chokes a little, not quite stumbling, but disoriented enough that the photographer has to call his attention back.

From what he’d been aware of, Jongdae was supposed to pick him up today, because Sehun wanted to watch that new movie that made everyone else cry and Jongdae had been the only one free, and as far as he knew, Minseok had work.

“Beautiful, baby,” Minseok says when Sehun comes to him, eyes glinting, and Sehun blushes, helplessly in love. “You’re doing so well.”

“Thank you, Minnie,” he says shyly, and he feels a little foolish, in the mesh shirt and vest, but Minseok kisses his cheek, in full view of the staff, uncaring of how they would be perceived, and Sehun melts, clings a little to the sweater. “Um. Uh, what are you doing here? You’re early, for once.”

“Hmm, I know. I finished rehearsing with the new symphony early, wanted to take advantage of a rare freed up day,” he says, “Decided to pick you up. I haven’t seen the movie yet, either.”

“Oh, okay,” Sehun says, and Minseok cocks an eyebrow.

“Can I not spend time with you, Hunnie?” he asks, and Sehun melts even more, curling into a hug and Minseok’s lips are on his forehead, smiling. “Hmm, you should go get ready. How many more do you have to do?”

“One more,” he says, and Minseok pulls him in, kissing him fully on the mouth, making Sehun whimper a little into his mouth.

“Okay, I’ll be right here. Go get dressed,” he says, patting his bum fondly, and Sehun is reluctantly pulled away from him to get into the last set of clothes for the day.

“He’s handsome. You’re very lucky,” one of the stylists say as they they help him dress.

“I am,” Sehun says, agreeing completely, can’t help the smile on his face. He pauses when another stylist holds out the choker, coming up to put it on him. He pauses, knowing Minseok will recognize it, and his hesitance must show on his face, because they ask him, “Is there a problem?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, weighing his options. Then, he says decisively, “No, go ahead please.”

So he walks out to the set in leather pants and leather jacket, birds painted on to his exposed chest and stomach by the makeup artists, the choker sitting prettily, heavily around his neck, and he tries not to move so much, tries not to think about the way Minseok watches, face blank, but eyes set on the accessory.

He’s directed to the set, and he follows as well as he can, getting into positions and angling his face for the camera as the photographer takes shot after shot, but all he can see and think about is Minseok standing a ways off, watching, eyes on him.

He can’t help but think. If he’s angry that Sehun had taken his necklace without asking, or. Or if what had happened when Chanyeol had worn his clothes would happen to him, and he bites his lip inadvertently, the camera going off still, and he can’t be sure of what might happen. Minseok was a little unpredictable, always treated all of them well regardless, and he very well might not react at all.

Truthfully, Sehun hopes that _doesn’t_ happen.

The shoot wraps up quickly enough, and everyone is clapping and congratulating for a day finished and jobs well done, and Sehun is bowing a lot, to everyone who comes up to him, and then Minseok is suddenly there, kissing him lovingly.

“You were _gorgeous,”_ he says, praises coming easily from his lips, and Sehun shivers a little. “Good job, Hunnie.”

“Thank you,” he says, feeling brave enough to lean down for another kiss, and Minseok yields easily, lips opening and Sehun licks in, just a bit, and it’s so warm between, so much fondness and love.

“Hmm, let’s get going,” Minseok hums, pulling away, and then pulling them to the dressing room, where the stylists wait.

“Ah, if you could leave us for a while,” Minseok says, voice cool and collected, and the stylists nod at him, faces knowing, but Sehun doesn’t catch on until the door is locked and Minseok is pulling his face down, kissing him again, but nowhere near as soft. Teeth pulling at his lips, tongue in his mouth and _licking,_ and Sehun whimpers, any feelings of being put out because the choker hadn’t sparked any sort of reaction quelled instantly.

“Beautiful baby,” Minseok says, voice like steam and silk, fingers touching the leather of the necklace, and Sehun swallows, wanting to get on his knees for the tone of his voice alone. “Gorgeous, with this on.”

“I, I hope you don’t mind. That I borrowed it,” he says, words stuttered, but Minseok just hums, kissing down his jaw, hands under the jacket and tracing over the painted on birds, his nipples, the lines of his abs.

“Hmm, it’s very good that you did,” Minseok says. “Otherwise. I would not have had the pleasure to see you like _this.”_

“Like what?” Sehun says, and Minseok gives him a look that makes his cock stiffen.

“Hmm. Like you’re _my baby,”_ Minseok says, kissing him thoroughly, deeply, and Sehun cries a little, wanting nothing else.

“I am,” Sehun says, holding on to Minseok’s jacket, pulling him closer and grinding his front against Minseok’s own, making him feel just how much he wants him, wants this.

“Clothes off, baby,” Minseok says, voice low, and Sehun obeys immediately, stripping himself, watching as Minseok looks on, unblinking, then reaching down a hand, unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock from their confines. Sehun’s mouth waters as he stares at the length, thick and hardening as Minseok strokes himself to full hardness, for him, and the choker then feels a little too tight for his throat, feels a small struggling swallowing down.

He makes to remove the necklace after getting the pants off, but Minseok stops him with a barely hear, but very clear, “Not that, baby. You keep that on.”

He breathes, breathes very hard, and he comes closer when Minseok beckons him, and his hand is small but sure around his cock, making him whimper, and then gasp and sob as his cock slides against Minseok’s then, Minseok holding both of their lengths, pulling them off together, motions slow and sure.

“Oh, _oh,”_ he whines, reaching out and grasping on to Minseok’s arms, forehead falling forward to slump against his shoulder and Minseok strokes them, touch too hot and making him sweat. “Minnie.”

“Hmm, do you have-”

He nods before the question is even finished being uttered, “in, in my bag.”

“Hmm, naughty boy,” Minseok says, pulling away briefly to retrieve what they need, and as he comes back, Sehun gets on his knees, taking hold of his length in his hands and not wasting time, mouth too wet to wait.

He licks the head of Minseok’s cock, then his chest shudders, needing more, giving himself more. He opens his mouth wider, and Minseok smiles at him, feeding his cock into his mouth, rewarding him, and Sehun sighs, breathes through his nose as his thick girth stretches his mouth wide, pushes in deep, making him choke slightly, and he treasures it, can’t get enough.

“Oh, you look _filthy,_ sucking my cock,” Minseok says, purring, and he’s slipping the lube on to his hand, “open yourself up for me, baby.”

Sehun moans around the flesh in his mouth, taking the slick and he hurries to pour some over his fingers, reaching back to his hole. It’s cold against his ass, in too much of a hurry to get fucked that he doesn’t bother to warm it properly, and Minseok hums, using Sehun’s mouth to get harder, cock fucking in and out of his mouth, keeping him open.

Sehun breathes hard through his nose as he fingers himself, one finger after the other, stretching himself open for Minseok’s length, and he gets Minseok’s dick wet with his mouth, Minseok taking his face in his hands, then fingers in his hair and _pulling_ as he pounds in, fucking his face.

He cries a little bit, feeling _so_ good, and Minseok wipes the tears away, so attentive, praising him, and Sehun’s breath feels constricted to his throat, the choker making him feel just the slightest bit restricted, a delicious feeling.

Minseok tastes so _good_ on his tongue, cock so thick and making his jaw ache in the most satisfying way, and he’s shoving three fingers in and out of his hole at an alarming speed, the squelch off his fingers disgusting, and he truly hopes that no one is waiting outside the door, but then again, he doesn’t care much if they are. He’ll be getting fucked and getting off either way, so it’s his to win.

“Enough,” Minseok says in a quiet but firm voice, and Sehun gasps for air when there’s a lack of dick in his mouth suddenly, Minseok stepping back, and he whines. Not for long, as Minseok says, “Stand up, Hunnie. Against the table.”

He stands, following, but not before kissing him deeply, and Minseok smiles against his mouth, most probably tasting himself. At this thought, Sehun licks into his mouth harder, giving him more.

He stands over the table, looks up, and blushes instantly when he’s there staring at his reflection on the mirror, the vanity lights all on and illuminating the glow of the sweat, the few kiss-bruises on his skin, and his stark nakedness, entirely too much.

He looks down, staring at his hands on the table, listening to Minseok tear the condom packet open, and at the first press of the head of his cock against his hole, Minseok says, “Feeling shy, baby?”

Sehun swallows, fingers squeezing into fists, and he tries pushing back on to his length, but Minseok holds his waist tightly, keeping him in place.

“Sehun.”

“It’s a lot to look at,” he replies, and Minseok tsks.

“You’re _gorgeous,”_ he says. “Look up.”

It takes him a moment, but he does eventually, blinking at the mirror. Minseok stands closer, pushing his cock into his hole as he does so, and Sehun watches his mouth drop open as he’s filled, and looks at Minseok’’s face behind him, soft smirk on his lips as his hands roam his torso.

“Don’t be ashamed, or shy, darling,” he says, pulling out, only to fuck back in _hard,_ making him gasp. “Nothing to be shy about. You’re a _dream.”_

At this, he starts fucking him, establishing the pace of Sehun’s dreams, hard and fast, and Sehun whines, spreading his legs a little more, taking Minseok’s cock and revelling in the motions of their bodies.

“Oh, god, _fuck,”_ he moans, ass fluttering around the length inside him, and he hears Minseok groan behind him. “Minseok, oh, _fuck, uh, uh, uh-”_

“That’s _it,_ baby,” Minseok encourages, hands on his waist as he _drives_ in, “Such a perfect boy. Your ass, too. So fucking _perfect,_ just swallowing me right up.”

“Made to take your cock,” Sehun says, whines even more as Minseok pounds into his ass, filling him up and making him feel everything. “Fuck, you’re so thick, _daddy, oh fuck.”_

“Fuck, Hunnie,” he says, Sehun soaring a little when he hears the words gritted out, as if he couldn’t contain his pleasure, and he feels it, the hard thrusts into his ass, his cock hammering in and never leaving him empty for too long, if at all.

A hand on the small of his back lowers him slightly, and the angle Minseok drives into makes Sehun lose his breath, gasp and his cock spurting pre-come, and he would scream had Minseok not covered his mouth with his free hand.

“Oh, _daddy,”_ he sobs, words muffled against his palm, but he keeps babbling on anyway, “Right there, please, please fuck me more, _oh. Oh, Minnie, right there, right fucking there-”_

Minseok fucks him, hips slamming as his cock pierces into Sehun’s hole, plunging in and he clenches around the girth. Sehun cries, opening his mouth as Minseok inserts his fingers in, keeping his mouth full like his ass.

“Oh, baby boy. Take it, _take it,”_ Minseok says, cock thick and perfect as he fucks into him, and Sehun can’t catch his breath, so overwhelmed and full, ass stretched wide around Minseok’s length, and he stares at his reflection, mirror fogging up slightly from his breath, the heat between them.

While not quite a slap of his skin against skin, there is still a distinct _thumping_ of their bodies as they meet, as Minseok drives forward, as Sehun is brought back for his cock to plunge into, and it’s not quite soft. Despite the fingers his mouth, he can’t stop _moaning,_ whining, making every noise as he’s fucked. Minseok does little to quiet him, apart from starting to move his fingers as well, in and out of his mouth, and soon the pace imitates the speed of the way he’s driving into his ass, and Sehun drools so much around his fingers, can’t be bothered to be embarrassed as Minseok rams into him, cock so perfectly thick in his hole, his whole body sensitive.

“Hmm. Want you to come on my cock,” Minseok says, right into his ear, as he pushes his fingers into his mouth even further, his length grinding into his ass deeper. Sehun chokes around his fingers, needs more.”You close, baby?”

Sehun grunts, squeezing his ass in reply, and Minseok chuckles, resuming his pace, fucking him again, so hard, until Sehun has to lean against the mirror, overwhelmed with it all as Minseok drives into his ass, filling him up and leaving no room for anything else, and Sehun wouldn’t want it any other way.

He comes so suddenly he gasps around the fingers in his mouth, suddenly so _overwrought_ and _sensitive_ as he spills all over the table, untouched, and Minseok groans as he rams into him, shoving his cock even harder into his hole, pulling out his hand from his mouth and setting it on his back, keeping him still as he fucks into him. Sehun takes it like the _perfect_ baby boy he is, drooling a little and sighing as he’s drilled into, and there are fingers touching his neck, just where the choker’s leather kisses his neck, just tracing the line of it, then.

“Oh, _fuck, Hunnie, baby,”_ Minseok moans, wringing it out as he grinds into his ass, spilling into him, and they’re both breathing heavily, filthy and too sated.

“Hmm, _hmm,”_ Sehun hums, moving his ass around Minseok’s just-come sensitive length, and MInseok groans, slapping his ass gently, but Sehun moans, squeezing. “No, _no._ That’s enough.”

Sehun pouts, but stands all the same when Minseok pulls out, patting his butt as he goes. His ass aches so _good,_ hole twitching slightly at the emptiness, and he can’t control his smirk, groaning as he stretches his body, and he just knows he’ll have a hard time walking.

He smirks at the thought, too pleased.

“Hurry, baby, if you want to catch the next full show,” Minseok says, and being the _perfect best boyfriend_ he is, truly his soulmate, he helps him dress up, guiding his underwear and pants in through his legs, kissing his hip and waist as he goes, and Sehun is so fucking in love.

Says it, because he can’t shut up, “Love you.”

“I love you too, Hunnie,” Minseok says, soft smile on his face. “Hmm, arms out, let’s get your shirt on.”

The staff are incredibly professional, not even a hint of a blush as they walk out, and Sehun feels emboldened, holds Minseok’s hand the whole way, on their way to the car, in the car, buying the tickets, buying the popcorn.

He cries during the movie even though he said he wouldn’t. Minseok kisses the tears away, holding his hand still. The choker feels so nice around his neck.

.

.

It’s Jongdae’s turn doing the laundry, and he’s folding the clothes and hanging what needs to be put on hangers, taking special care to iron out Minseok’s next concert outfit.

“I need something,” Baekhyun is barging into the laundry room then, proceeding to snuff through the piles of clothes. Specifically, Minseok’s pile, which he’d taken extra careful care to fold properly, the clothes falling off the pile into tangled heaps on the floor.

Jongdae sighs, putting down the iron, saying, “Your pile is the second from the right-”

“No, I need Minnie’s clothes,” Baekhyun says. “I need to get fucked so hard I can’t walk.”

“What does his _clothes_ have anything to do with that?” Jongdae says, raising an eyebrow, and he’s grabbing Baekhyun’s collar, trying to haul him out of the room, as Baekhyun whines.

“Have you _seen_ Hunnie? Could barely take a step without wincing, _and_ he was wearing Minnie’s necklace,” Baekhyun explains, as if it makes any sense. It doesn’t.

“That makes no sense, Baek.”

“Listen! Chanyeol got fucked on the Martin after he wore Minnie’s jacket! And Hunnie got nailed too, after he wore the choker! There’s a _pattern,”_ Baekhyun says, eyes wide, and Jongdae just tsks.

“You’re ruining my laundry flow, get out,” is all he says, kicking him out of the room effectively, and sighing as he locks the door for good measure. He stares down at the ruined pile of clothes, sighs, and works to get them fixed.

He and Baekhyun go very far back. Roommates in their university’s _awful_ dorms, and they had a lot of fun. Hooked up eventually until it became something of a regular, fun thing, then suddenly, a little more serious, with _feelings._

So, they weren’t really looking for anything, content with each other, more than happy. But Minseok, with his beautiful eyes and beautiful compliments after their performance during their last premiere for their old company had gotten them intensely intrigued. He’d given them roses he’d bought off the street that night, the moment after they’d met. Then they kept meeting, sunflowers the next time, then daisies. Tulips, gardenias, until their apartment was like a garden. They couldn’t throw any away, gummy smile and cat eyes ingrained in their memories. They fell in love, foolishly, separately, unable to tell the other what they had felt.

The two of them had been so guilty over their feelings over someone who was taken, Junmyeon such a wonderful person as well, who Minseok showered with _everything_ beautiful.

One night after a few beers, Baekhyun began to cry.

“Dae,” he sobbed, wiping at his face, curling into himself. Jongdae felt his heart shatter, not because he knew what Baekhyun was going to admit to him, because he did. But because he looked so _devastated,_ so _afraid_ and _sad,_ that he must have felt so guilty for the way he felt. “Dae, I love you.”

“I know you do,” he said gently. “I love you too.”

“Dae, _I love him,”_ Baekhyun cried, holding his chest. “I’m in love with him. I’m sorry, _I’m sorry,_ I love you-”

Jongdae held him then, calmed him. Said, “Please don’t cry.”

“I, I don’t know what I’m feeling-”

“It’s okay,” he said, tried to keep in his own tears. “I. I know how you feel. I. I feel the same way, for him.”

And he had. He had felt that his heart felt similarly to the man who gave them flowers, each time he saw them. How could they not, Minseok with the way he is. They had stood no chance.

Eventually, they thought that a one time fuck would get it out of their systems. Jongdae had been first, and Minseok had kissed him with so much affection and fondness, held him so, _so_ close as he pushed in and out of him, and Jongdae was not one to cry, but he could not help it. Cried as Minseok comforted him as they melted into each other, licking into each other and staying close, long after they had finished.

“I’m sorry, for crying so much,” he said. Minseok simply smiled softly at him. “I didn’t think it would feel that way.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Jongdae,” Minseok admitted gently as he wiped his tears. “It’s just me.”

“It’s because it’s _you,”_ he said. Minseok’s eyes shone.

“Oh, darling,” he said, sounding so soft. “I’m in love with you.”

Jongdae cried again.

He and Minseok, it was an easy, soft relationship. One of support and fondness, and it wasn’t very loud, wasn’t exciting by normal standards, but Jongdae had felt so _whole,_ so charmed and taken care of. A mutual loving, he felt, that was pure.

He doesn’t know everything that happened between Minseok and Baekhyun. That’s their memory. But his memory, of Baekhyun coming back, trembling, legs shaking, and eventually, breaking down, sobbing that _“I don’t want to live without him. I can’t, I can’t,”_ was something he could never forget. Because as he comforted his love, he had cried quietly, ache in his chest telling him he had felt the same.

Then Minseok had visited them in their shitty apartment a day later, no flowers in his hands, but Junmyeon’s holding his, who looked at them both with so much kindness and understanding. _“I have a garden, in my backyard,”_ Minseok had said to them. _“Would you like to see?”_

They’d gone with him that day, to look at the garden, beautiful, but nothing compared to the man who cared for it.

They never looked back.

And now, with nine of them under the roof, it should feel crowded, it should feel. Too much. But it isn’t, Jongdae finds. Sees that each of them complete each other, in some way or another. They all wake up to see each other smile (Jongin), to tease and play-argue with (Sehun), to sit in quiet and just be in love and maybe make some music (Yixing). To play with and be energetic (Chanyeol), to read and talk about the musicals they wanted to see next (Junmyeon), to go to the park and watch the flowers grow and bloom (Kyungsoo), to be with forever (Baekhyun), and ever and ever and ever (Minseok).

It’s a life he loves, and Jongdae smiles as he thinks about it, feeling wholly complete, always thankful.

And. He feels like they all know each other quite well. Have been together for a while, and he feels like he would know if stealing his clothes would be something of an aphrodisiac or sex trigger for Minseok. All of them share clothes, after all. He practically shares a wardrobe with Baekhyun and Junmyeon, really.

But. Then again, no one really touches Minseok’s clothes. Yes, they’ve all dressed a little darker, more black and lots of glitter and exuding _rich_ ever since they’d met him, but. Minseok was something of another level. Composer genius with a bit of a sequin goth kink and leather and always black, and he _looked_ like money, effortless, enticing. Dangerous. So, it had made sense to not touch his clothing.

But, the thing with Chanyeol. Then Sehun, apparently.

Jongdae looks down at his hands, Minseok’s black turtleneck on the board, ready for folding.

His fingers squeeze a bit around the fabric as he thinks, weighing his options.

.

“Oh, you’re still awake”

“Hmm, the others insisted on watching that Lady Gaga movie, even though they _knew_ they’d cry all over again and get themselves sad-tired,” he says, washing the dishes they’d used for the popcorn and drinks, everyone passed out on the couches or on the floor, and they’d done this to themselves. That last song would get them all dehydrated from crying so much and exhausted, and he’d warned them. “How was your rehearsal? It took a lot longer than you said it would.”

“Hmm, could have been better. I foresaw the second movement being difficult to master, though, so I’m not quite expecting perfection from the orchestra, yet,” he says, removing his long black overcoat and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, looking so _handsome,_ Jongdae aches.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he asks him, and Minseok gives him a soft smile, coming forward and kissing him gently.

“No, I’ve eaten, thank you Dae,” he says, and he looks down, pauses. Finally notices what he’s wearing. “Is that mine?”

“Ah,” he says, and he tries to control the blush he feels coming on. “Well. Yes.”

“I thought Jongin just had his turn on laundry duty?” Minseok muses, “Unless, one of them-”

“No, no. Um. It’s my turn doing the laundry, and. Well. There’s no excuse,” he says, failing to keep the blush off. “I wanted to try it on. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he says, still looking at him. “It looks good. You should model too, Jongdae.”

“Ah. No, no,” he says, shaking his head shyly, trying to hurry up with the washing so he can get everyone to bed and feel less embarrassed about doing this. “I’m, um, no-”

“Are you looking down on yourself?” Minseok says, and Jongdae swallows. Turns the water off, knowing that if they weren’t already wet and soapy, his palms would be sweating. “You shouldn’t, you’re beautiful.”

Jongdae looks at him, his chest all warm as it usually is with their oldest, the one who really ties them all together. As much as they all love each other, would do anything for each other, none of them would be here without Minseok. His kindness and pure love for each of them, his genuine care and affection for all eight of them.

His and Minseok’s relationship. It was much softer, much more. Quiet, than Minseok’s personal relationships with the others. He was somewhat more playful with the younger ones, liked to tease them and make them kneel for him. With Junmyeon and Yixing, he was a little less guarded, as he’d known them the longest, and they were the closest in age. With Chanyeol, Baekhyun, he was their dream sugar daddy, spoiling them rotten and indulging in their every little whim.

Minseok and Jongdae were the quiet couple. Something of an obvious pairing, the others had said. Jongdae never really asked for much, so he wasn’t much of a sugar daddy to him. Jongdae isn’t the type to be teased, and while he can play along, he’s not one to give in so easily either.

They. Well. They were them. Supporting each other quietly, surely, comfortably. Things were simple and easy between them, something that didn’t need to be questioned so much. Minseok could depend on him, and Jongdae finds that he could depend on Minseok. A stable love, one that made his heart thrum pleasantly, constantly, and it is a constant source of warmth.

So, when he comes forward, bringing his sudsy hands up to cup Minseok’s face, and kisses him, their lips warm together, gentle and yet, not, it’s not unfamiliar, but the pace is different. A little more heated than usual, a little _more_ as Minseok moves his lips against his, parting his mouth and they lick into each other.

“Hmm, you all have been getting brave with my stuff, these past few days,” Minseok hums, his hands on Jongdae’s slim waist and pulling their bodies closer together, uncaring of the soap bubbles on his face. Jongdae’s face burns, but Minseok just moves his head, mouth moving to his throat, just above where the neckline of the turtleneck stops. “I like it. I like it when you’re all feeling free and comfortable enough to do that.”

“You sound like a benefactor,” Jongdae says. He pauses, says, “Oh. I guess you kind of are one.”

“Jongdae, please,” Minseok chuckles, kissing his jaw. “Hmm. Is it alright if I do this?”

He moves one hand to his butt, squeezing, and Jongdae swallows, blushing.

“It’s nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Well, if it were _both_ your hands, or if it was under my clothes, it would be _really, really_ nice,” he answers, and Minseok smirks.

“Noted,” he says, pushing their fronts together, and Jongdae bites his lips, Minseok pulling him even closer and he struggles to breathe. “You alright there?”

“I. I don’t know,” he says. “I wasn’t really expecting anything.”

“Hmm. Is it bad that I want to?”

“No, I. I want to, too,” he says, tries not to blush too much. “But, uh, maybe not here?”

“Oh, but it takes the fun out of it,” Minseok says, pouting a little, and Jongdae fights to not be so endeared. “Don’t like fucking with dirty dishes in front of you?”

“No, that’s you,” Jongdae corrects him, earning himself a soft smirk gracing Minseok’s perfect face. “It’s just. It’s the kitchen. Any one of them could walk in.”

“Not if we go very quiet,” Minseok says, voice low, kissing him again. Jongdae shivers, and Minseok didn’t have to do much to convince any of them to do what he wanted. Part of the reason why they were all here in the first place. Jongdae was fucked. Would probably get fucked in the very near, immediate future.

“Aren’t you tired at all? You’ve been rehearsing for the whole day?”

“No, not when you’re with me,” he replies, smiling, and Jongdae gulps. Doesn’t move when Minseok palms the front of his pants just so, and he breathes sharply. He was _very_ fucked.

“We’re going to get caught,” Jongdae says, but it’s basically a _yes,_ and he _had_ been curious. Curious enough that he’d worn his sweater, and the prospect of getting fucked hard and well is always really, really good. Minseok grins, and he kisses away that smug look off of his face, because he’s annoyed at himself for giving in as easily as he does.

It starts out soft. Minseok bringing their dicks out of their respective pants, and he kisses him, lips moving together as he strokes them together in his hand, up and down, together. Jongdae breathes the deepest breaths, trying not to make too much noise, but it doesn’t take very much before he’s stiff and Minseok is as well, cocks hot and hard, sliding together, both wet at the tips. This won’t take long.

“Oh, gorgeous,” Minseok smirks. “Do you think any of them would have hidden lube here?”

“Maybe Jongin would, the nasty,” Jongdae says, voice a little more winded than he would like, and Minseok hums, rooting around the cabinets and drawers. His search doesn’t come out fruitless, a minute later, a few condom packets and a small bottle of lube. Jongdae doesn’t want to know, who might have done what in the kitchen, but they’re all disgusting. He’s a little less disgusting, but then again, he’s about to get fucked next to the sink, and he’s more than excited about it.

Minseok moves his pants down, just so, until his ass is out and exposed. Reaches behind with slicked fingers, and Jongdae bites his lips when it prods at his hole.

“You should wear my clothes more often,” Minseok says conversationally as he pushes a finger in, making Jongdae gasp, maks his ass clench. “We are the same size, more or less.”

“You just want to see me in your clothes,” Jongdae says, bites it out when Minseok inserts his finger slowly, circling his rim, in and out, then pushing in, in, completely in.

“Oh. Not wrong,” Minseok chuckles, one more finger in, getting him to feel it. “Oh, Jongdae. My pretty boy.”

“Yours,” Jongdae says, closing his eyes, ass clenching around three fingers. His hands are still bubbled up, and the dishes aren’t finished. He’s a little out of his mind, but Minseok makes him feel _so_ good, all the fucking time. Ridiculous.

Minseok pulls out his fingers, putting on a condom in record time and reaches down and takes Jongdae by his thighs, lifting up to the counter and setting him there. Jongdae barely has time to breathe before his pants are being pulled down further, legs spread, and a cock in his ass in one push, all at once and filling him up to the brim, slow pace temporarily abandoned.

He gasps, too loudly, and Minseok covers his mouth with his own, and he keeps still, letting Jongdae adjust around the cock in his ass as he licks into his mouth, paused. Jongdae breathes deeply, moving his arms to around Minseok’s shoulders, keeping him close, nosing at Minseok’s cheeks and nose and asking for kisses wordlessly, constantly. Minseok gives him all of these, and many more.

“Can I-”

“Yeah, yes, _yes,”_ Jongdae says, gasping almost immediately when Minseok starts fucking him, and they’re both groaning.

“You’re so tight,” Minseok hisses, not a complaint at all, pushing in and out, “such a nice ass.”

“You’re thick, fuck,” he says, hushed tones, trying not to get too overwhelmed all at once, but Minseok was, in the best sense of the word, _a lot._ “Oh, oh fuck.”

“You good?” Minseok asks, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Not too much?”

“You’ve barely done anything,” Jongdae huffs, and Minseok laughs a little.

“You want more, then?”

“No, I don’t,” he says, and Minseok raises an eyebrow at his tone.

“Reel it in on the sarcasm. I’ll give you what you want,” Minseok assures him, and Jongdae trusts him with his life, but Minseok could be a real tease when he pleased, and he hopes now isn’t one of those times.

Thankfully, thank _fuck,_ that it doesn’t seem to be the case, as Minseok pulls out, and _fucks_ back in, driving his cock in and Jongdae’s breath is choked as he’s speared open, right on the countertop, and he clings on, breathing more labored than he’d like as Minseok drives into his ass, harder and harder.

Minseok keeps plunging into him, his cock feeling _perfect_ inside him and filling him up, thick and truly a gift, and Jongdae leans back, breathing hard as he’s pounded into.

“Can I go harder, love?” Minseok asks, still fucking him, and Jongdae trembles, ass clenching.

“Please. Please do.”

And Minseok does. And when he goes hard, he goes _hard,_ and Jongdae would be flying if not for the grip Minseok has on his body, pulling him back to his cock as he _rams_ himself into his hole, and they’re going so hard that some of the drawers are being jostled by the force of Minseok’s thrusts forward, Jongdae’s ass sliding on the counter, skin skidding, his cock bouncing against the sweater.

He swallows, white pre-come trailing along the black fabric, and Minseok is tilting his head down, and they’re kissing again, kissing as he and Minseok defile the kitchen.

“Oh, oh _fuck,”_ he breathes, ass stretched wide around his cock, and his hole keeps fluttering, winking around the hot flesh sinking into him, and Minseok’s pace is unfaltering, so good and making him choke on his tongue. “Harder.”

Minseok glances up, gaging his expression. He must see what he wants, as he goes for it. _Slamming, hammering_ into Jongdae’s ass and stretching him even further, and Jongdae can’t hold back a moan, legs shaking as Minseok gives it all to him like he wants it.

Minseok kisses him, licking across his lips, shoving his tongue into his mouth and licking around everywhere, and Jongdae suddenly wants to _limp._ Wants the same hitch in his step, like Chanyeol and Sehun. Wants more, and he asks for it.

“More, more, Min,” is what comes out of his mouth.

Minseok gives it without reserve, pace increasing for a third time, and Jongdae is _ruined._ Moans, almost shouts in the emptiness of the kitchen as Minseok keeps reaming into him, drilling into his hole and keeping him so open, ass split in two, and he hopes he can’t walk, after this.

“Oh, _oh, fuck, right there,”_ he says, arching into him. Gets a hand around himself, and Minseok joins him, and he’s exhaling hard as he’s fucked and they jointly pull him off.

A minute later, he spills over their hands, moaning like a song, and Minseok is kissing him again, moaning similarly as he fucks into Jongdae with no real rhythm, and he’s coming into the condom. Jongdae can almost feel him, feel it inside him, and he kisses Minseok in turn, sated and happy.

“Beautiful,” Minseok says of him immediately, and he can’t help the blush on his face. “Oh. Where would I be without you, Jongdae?”

“Just as rich and loaded,” Jongdae snorts, and Minseok laughs, eyes crinkling so cutely, and he can barely take in the fact that Minseok could fuck like a beast, literally just did, a few mere moments before.

“Ah, but not as happy,” he admits, and Jongdae pouts, suddenly emotional at Minseok’s words. “I love you, Jongdae.”

“I love you too,” he says, sniffing a little, but not crying. He wiggles a bit, says in his most serious voice, “I need to finish the dishes.”

“Hmm, yes, you should,” Minseok says simply, and Jongdae narrows his eyes at him, until he concedes and says, “Ah, okay. Allow me to help you with it.”

“Oh, perfect boyfriend,” he says brightly, and Minseok snorts, but gives in to the kiss he asks for wordlessly.

.

Baekhyun glares at him over breakfast, stabbing the pancakes Kyungsoo had made with ferocity.

“Sex traitor,” he hisses. Jongdae blinks. “You got his clothes! After you said it wouldn’t work!”

“It was a coincidence,” he says, trying to move a little in his seat, but he winces, his bottom not quite comfortable on the chair. Baekhyun’s eyes widen, and he pouts.

“I want a sex limp!” he wails. “Dae-Dae, help me steal his pants!”

“No,” he answers, Baekhyun’s resulting pouts ignored.

.

.

It’s Kyungsoo, funnily enough, who steals the pants. Straight up goes to Minseok’s room as Junmyeon is arranging the laundry, takes the tightest pair made of black leather and zippers along the sides that was laid out on the bed, waiting to be hung and put away, says, “I’m getting these.”

“Oh, but, that’s. That’s Minseok’s-”

He goes out of the room before Junmyeon can finish.

.

His first meeting with Minseok was something of a small alignment of the stars that wished for him to be happy, is all. Probably. He’s thankful, either way, immensely, endlessly, because Minseok gave him vibrancy and life, despite all the black he insists on wearing, even on the hottest days of the summer, the idiot.

He’d been sitting by the window of the coffee shop he’d been forced to resort to after his own frequent haunt had closed down for some brief renovating. The place was full, morning rush of students getting a little fix before class and businessmen in their suits,getting something to go, and Kyungsoo is somewhere in between, he guesses. The graduate degree makes him a student still, but he’d been working on the side for a while, spoken word on weekends and small acting jobs whenever he could get it.

 _“Hello. May I sit with you?”_ someone had asked him, and Kyungsoo had nodded, not even looking up, a bit because he was intensely engrossed in the novel he’d been reading, mostly because he was just very shy.

He looks up eventually when he reaches down to take a sip from his coffee.

He chokes slightly on the hot liquid. He hadn’t been expecting someone so. Beautiful.

The stranger looked up after several minutes, all of which Kyungsoo has spent just staring at him, unable to look away. Usually, people would get uncomfortable, maybe even angry, when Kyungsoo keeps his gaze on them for a second too long, so he tends to avoid staring.

But this person’s face, quiet smile and kind but piercing eyes, glitter lining and frosting his eyelids, his hair looking so fluffy and deeply maroon, and Kyungsoo could not help but look on.

And this person, upon realizing Kyungsoo’s gaze, simply looked up. Blinked, no hint of discomfort, and had closed his notebook, put down his pen. Asked him quietly, _“What’s that you’re reading?”_

It was a book of poetry one of his former professors had written. He had shown it to him, and then began a quiet, meaningful conversation.

Kyungsoo has been enchanted by the man in all black and glitter on his eyes, and he’d found that even after his old coffee shop had opened again, he continued to come to this one, for morning stretching into afternoons next to the window seat, new book in hand, ready to talk with the beautiful man.

Minseok. His name, as he’d said. Kyungsoo’s heart had felt so warm.

Eventually, Minseok started giving him books as well his own recommendations, mans he’d read them all. Wanted more, but maybe, wanted to see the person who offered them to him in the first place.

He fell in love, very quickly. Then, he had met Junmyeon, who dropped off some books and left with a kiss to Minseok’s lips. Then Baekhyun and Jongdae, who’d stopped by and ate the cakes Minseok had bought for himself and Kyungsoo, their hands on either of his thighs, rubbing pointedly. Then Chanyeol, overgrown puppy who just wanted to see Minseok before he had to go to work and wasn’t able to wake up early enough to see him off, and then Sehun, who had come along because Minseok was supposed to be dropping him off at a photoshoot, who sat with his head on Minseok’s shoulder, even though he was around a head taller.

Kyungsoo had been shocked at first, at the first boyfriend. As they kept increasing, one after the other, Kyungsoo had kept quiet, not knowing what to feel.

Minseok had read him well, and asked, _“Is it strange?”_

 _“Certainly not normal,”_ Kyungsoo says, looking down on his lap, and Minseok had nodded respectfully.

He had stopped going to the coffee shop. Stopped getting coffee altogether, too reminded of a beautiful man who gave his mornings more light and music in his gentle laughter.

It was the loneliest week of his life.

He’d tried going to the nearby park, sat on the benches and trying to make more sense of where his life had him going and why he’d felt so _stagnant_ a mere few days after he had stopped seeing him. He’d like to think he was stronger than this, but.

It didn’t take very long, for one of them to see him. The tall one, with the big ears and big eyes, paused as he takes him in on the bench. Kyungsoo had bowed his head, Chanyeol bowing back, before he leaves, guitar on his back, legs working. He had sighed, thinking he’ll have to find another morning spot the next day.

He wouldn’t get the chance. Before the hour had been up, Minseok was there, cups of coffee in his hands, soft smile on his face.

 _“May we talk?”_ he asked. Kyungsoo blushed against his will, but eventually, he nodded.

So they did. And he ended up cutting his class with how much they had talked, unable to draw himself away from Minseok and his beautiful words and even more gorgeous smile.

Kyungsoo was in love.

So, it would be the park on the weekdays. Then the coffee shop on weekends.

The first kiss was in the park, Kyungsoo could still taste the coffee on Minseok’s lips as he’s moved forward to press his mouth against his. It was quiet, it was perfect.

The first _‘I love you_ ’ was in the coffee shop, over the din of noise, and Kyungsoo blushed profusely after he’d uttered the words. Minseok had smiles, eyes shining. Echoed the words back in his beautiful voice, and Kyungsoo was so happy.

The first time Kyungsoo had brought him over to his tiny studio apartment, Minseok had pulled him in and it was easy to fall on the bed, pull at each other’s clothes and fuck, Kyungsoo’s head thrown back on the pillows as the headboard slammed against the wall and his body fucked into the bed. He’d never moaned louder, came harder, until the next time they had done it, and then the next, and the next.

He moved into Minseok’s less than a month later. It had taken much shorter than he’d anticipated, to get used to the other boys. Really, he had fallen in love with them all, too, something he had not been prepared for, but it is what happened.

Cooking with Chanyeol, cuddles on the couch with Nini. Showers with Baekhyun, talking with Yixing. Games with Sehun, grocery shopping with Junmyeon, taking film photograph sprees with Jongdae.

But the mornings, with coffee on the counter or outside in the gardens, that was for the two of them, Minseok’s place in his heart soft, stable, unchallenged.

.

And Kyungsoo, he hadn’t been blind. After the jacket incident with Chanyeol, he’d been trying to decide which among his clothes would Minseok give him the best bedroom eyes and the best dicking down for.

Easy. Had to be the pants, the ones that made all of them get their dicks hard and mouths wet whenever Minseok wears them.

They’re not quite his style, but he’s sure Minseok would be more than happy to see his ass in leather.

“Shameless,” Minseok says when he gets back to his room after working the whole day, late, late enough that everyone else had gone to bed and Kyungsoo had to take a nap earlier to be a little more awake for this, and Kyungsoo is sitting right there on top of his bed, in his softest sweater, and the leather pants on his legs, wrapped around his thighs like sin.

Kyungsoo blinks up at him, and he closes his book, sets it aside on the side table with his glasses, and he says directly, “There was no point in being coy. Everyone calls these the _‘sex pants’_ anyway.”

“I’ll say. Especially on you,” Minseok says, putting away his bag, and then getting on the bed, crawling right over Kyungsoo’s legs, hovering over him. He sets himself on his lap, and leans forward to capture Kyungsoo’s lips with his own, kissing him.

Kyungsoo sighs, leaning into the kiss, letting Minseok guide and direct them, lips like silk and moving wonderfully against his own. He slides his hand to the back of Minseok’s pants, gripping his ass and rolling a bit. Minseok grunts a little, breath warm on Kyungsoo’s lips as he pushes back against his hands, and Kyungsoo tilts his head back for Minseok to drag his tongue over his throat, over his jaw, and he closes his eyes, the quiet feeling so good around them, the low light and just them, a treasure.

“Would you turn over for me, Soo?” Minseok asks against his lips, and Kyungsoo hums, helping Minseok off his lap to do as asked of him, turning over onto his hands and knees, and hears Minseok sigh behind him, sounding pleased, a hand feeling up the back of his thighs, over his ass, pinching lightly. He bites his lips, tries not to move too much.

“Oh, gorgeous, baby,” Minseok says, still palming his ass, and then he’s kneeling up behind Kyungsoo, bringing his ass back to his crotch, hips pushing forward and Kyungsoo can feel, even among the layers of clothes between them, that Minseok likes the pants, _very much._ “You should wear leather more often.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t really suit me,” he says, “but. If you like it-”

“Nonsense. You’re _perfect,”_ Minseok pushes forward slightly harder, fucking against his ass, clearly wanting to be inside him. Kyungsoo is very much willing to let him have at it, pushing back against Minseok’s dick, but Minseok pulls his hips back, not letting him near.

Kyungsoo groans, huffs a little at being teased, “Minseok. Please.”

“Wait a bit, baby boy,” Minseok says, soothing him with a hand rubbing his ass, then lips pressed against his cheek. “Let’s take our time. You’re absolutely edible, like this. I want to take advantage of it. Is that alright?”

Of course it’s alright, because Kyungsoo wants it to last, too. But, he pretends to be impatient, huffing and whining into the sheets, looking back and glaring at Minseok.

Minseok smirks at him, not buying it. Kyungsoo had known this, too, but it was always fun to play a bit.

Minseok hooks his fingers into the waistband of his pants, Minseok’s legs filling them out much better, but it was rather snug around Kyungsoo’s ass, something he knows would be appreciated at the moment. Kyungsoo stays still as the pants are pulled down, Minseok humming as it’s pulled down his ass, to his thighs. He can hear the smirk in Minseok’s voice when he says, “Where’d your underwear go?”

“They wouldn’t be needed anyway,” Kyungsoo snorts, and Minseok chuckles, hands so _nice_ on his bare ass, rolling the flesh a bit, playing.

“Hmm, as expected. You’re quite forward,” Minseok says, patting his bum lovingly. “My _baby.”_

“Could get a move on, daddy,” Kyungsoo says, a bite in his tone, and Minseok just laughs again, smacking his ass a little harder. Not quite a slap, but hard enough that Kyungsoo jolts, struggling to keep his moan contained.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby. You’ll like this,” Minseok says, too smug, and Kyungsoo hates him a little, then suddenly, he doesn’t hate him at all, crying out when Minseok licks right into his hole, making him jolt and tremble at the touch.

He’s right. He likes it, likes it a lot. But he doesn’t say it, not wanting to feed Minseok’s stupid ego.

Minseok licks around his ass, tracing the rim, his breath so warm and wet against his skin, and he’s shaking already, from the way Minseok slowly eats him out, tongue pushing in and curling into his hole, making the struggle to keep himself up even more difficult.

“Hmm. You taste so _good,_ Soo,” Minseok says, and he can almost feel the pleased smile he must have on, lips pressing kisses onto his rim, like he’s making out with his hole.

It’s disgusting, and Kyungsoo loves it, breath leaving him in shudders as Minseok rims him, fucking into him with his tongue in short jabs, then slow swipes, deep licking inside.

“Fuck, _fuck,”_ Kyungsoo breathes, fisting the sheets, pushing his ass back onto Minseok’s face. “Oh, you’re being unfair.”

“Unfair how, baby?” he says, and he’s such a dick. “I’m making sure you feel good.”

“Did you tease the others before you fucked them until they got a sex limp?” Kyungsoo spits out, and Minseok _laughs,_ before tracing over his rim again with his tongue, being completely unfair.

“Hmm, I don’t know what you mean, baby,” Minseok says, dipping his tongue in even deeper, licking him out, the slick noise of his mouth on Kyungsoo’s hole disgusting and making his toes curl, so good. “What a lovely ass. You tight for me, baby?”

Kyungsoo can barely talk, biting his lips too hard, not wanting to give in so easily. But he wants to be fucked, wants it in his ass and wants Minseok to _slap_ him, make him tight, and so he says, “Why don’t you stuff it in me and find out?”

“Hmm, mouthy,” Minseok says, and he _shoves_ his tongue into his ass, licking him and eating him out, so thoroughly, curling and and Kyungsoo gasps, moans at the sensation, and Minseok gives him, more, more, everything but what he’s asking for. But he _likes it,_ likes it so much he’s muffling his wails on the pillow, not wanting to give Minseok the satisfaction. But he knows, he always knows, anyway.

Minseok rims him, slow but deep, every move of his tongue calculated and knowing just where to curl into him, how to move, and Kyungsoo trembles, struggling to keep himself up, and he rides his face, moving his hips and bouncing his ass on Minseok’s tongue, feels him moan through his hole, soft vibrations against his skin making him harder, makes his cock achingly needy.

“Minseok. Please,” he chokes out, trying not to say it too breathily, and he gasps when there’s a tongue curling out of his hole, and gliding slowly, sensually up his crack, right up to the small of his back, and he loses his mind. “Fuck! _Fuck, daddy, fuck-“_

“Let’s get you opened up for me, baby boy,” Minseok says, kissing right over his hole, and Kyungsoo can’t stop trembling. “In the drawer. You know where.”

He does, gets the things they need from where Minseok keeps them in the drawer next to the bed. Minseok bites on the plumpest part of his ass in thanks, and he’s further reward with Minseok’s tongue back in his ass, pushed in alongside a finger.

“Oh, _oh,”_ Kyungsoo moans, lowering himself to his elbows and arching his back, ass winking around everything inside him, stretching him open. “Fuck. Please.”

“Such a pretty ass,” Minseok says, and Kyungsoo looks back watched him stretch himself back up and spreading the lube over his fingers. Their eyes meet when Minseok presses in with his finger, twisting into his hole, and Minseok _smirks_ at him, making sure to press in _right_ where he knows the pleasure would be at its most unbearable, and Kyungsoo moans, body almost dropping to the bed.

He goes with two, and Kyungsoo can barely breathe, his ass just stretching for Minseok, needing more and more of him. Three fingers, and he fights not to keen too much, his pride and general concern for the others already sleeping a concern, but Minseok dives back in with his tongue, eating him out and stretching him open, and it’s almost sure to be a lost cause.

“Don’t be afraid to make some noise, Soo. Let them wake up if it gets too much,” Minseok says, and Kyungsoo breathes, tries not to get too overwhelmed too quickly.

“Let’s see if you’ll be good enough to get me screaming, first,” he says, and Minseok smirks, the smuggest look on his face, and Kyungsoo knows that he’s going to do just that, as he always does. But it’s always a little fun, to egg him on a little bit and challenge him to _fuck._

A crinkle of a condom wrapper being opened, then barely a breath before Minseok slides his cock into his crack, moving it back and forth, and it’s so hot, so thick between his cheeks, and he chokes on a breath. Then he _thrusts_ his cock, all at once, into his ass, filling him up so _full,_ and Kyungsoo gasps, then moans loudly, almost a sob.

“Oh, _fuck. Fucking fuck,”_ he cries, Minseok grinding in, balls against his ass and Kyungsoo is stretched wide around his thick girth, feeling so full, so good. “So thick. God, _god-“_

“Such a tight, gorgeous ass,” Minseok says, palm warm against his skin as he pushes up his sweater a little more, then against his ass, rubbing his cheeks. “Squeeze around me a little more, darling.”

He does, clenching his ass around Minseok’s length, keening a little as Minseok hums, fucking him with small thrusts, _nothing_ yet, but Kyungsoo is already feeling so weak, so desperate.

He pushes back on to Minseok’s hips, shaking his ass a little, and Minseok chuckles, moans, but he slaps his ass playfully, and Kyungsoo shouldn’t like it, he desperately tries to make himself hate it, but his ass clenches even more around his cock as his ass is hit lightly, and his body betrays him.

“Oh? Baby liked that?” Minseok says, intrigued, doing it again, not much harder, but nearer to where his cock is keeping Kyungsoo stretched and split in two. Kyungsoo moans, louder, clamping down on Minseok’s length harder and tighter, and Minseok hums. “Okay. Noted.”

“You’re such a fucking-“

Kyungsoo’s tirade is gloriously cut short when Minseok pulls out and _slams in_ at a lightning pace, so suddenly and so _perfectly,_ and Kyungsoo’s words are strangled right in his throat, and Minseok is doing it again, moving his hips back, just to ram forward again.

His cock is so _perfect,_ inside him, spearing him open, splitting him in two. He fucks him, really _fucks_ him so hard, and Kyungsoo struggles to keep himself up, trying to push back his ass but Minseok drives forward in the most perfect ways and makes him _take it,_ and he’s very glad to do so. He goes harder with every other thrust driving down into him, pumping his thick cock into his body, Kyungsoo’s ass already feeling a little raw from his hips slapping into his cheeks, the way his cock is reaming him out and splitting him in two. It’s _glorious._

“Harder,” Kyungsoo says, squeezing his ass around him, breathing getting a little more labored. “Daddy, harder. Fuck me hard.”

“How hard, baby?” Minseok says, bending over and murmuring the words against his ear, hips never stopping as he keeps fucking him, over and over, Kyungsoo’s body jolting forward with each hard thrust.

“Your hardest,” he says, swallowing, fists clenching around the sheets. “I want it so hard, I can’t walk. I want you to make me _take it._ Slap my ass, make me come. Please ruin me.”

“Oh, _darling,”_ Minseok moans, and he’s sliding a hand up his spine, then, as he reaches his shoulder, he _pushes_ him down, shoulders on the bed but his ass still held up with the other hand, his cock continually sinking into him and making a home in his body, sure of his welcome.

Kyungsoo is shaking with anticipation, doesn’t like to be teased, but Minseok doesn’t do that. He pulls out, only to _slam_ back in harder, and he’s pistoning his cock in and out of his hole in the most gloriously vicious pace, leaving no room for him to breathe or think. Kyungsoo is out of his mind with his pleasure, giving up and moaning as his thick cock plunged into him over and over, abusing his hole in the way he’d wanted him to.

He chokes on his breath, and Minseok fucks him, rams his cock into his ass and on the first slap of his hand coming down on his ass, he wails, loudly, and his body drops fully on to the bed, his hole clenching around his cock and his ass hitched up a little higher, taking everything being given willingly.

“Oh, _oh fuck,”_ he whimpers, the sting _so good_ and his own cock is so hard, leaking at the end and his belly is warm with the need to come. “Min-Minseok, oh, _god._ You’re so thick, so big inside me.”

“Lovely boy, your ass is so tight,” Minseok says, hint of a grin in his voice as he buries his cock in his body, filling him up. “You keep yourself tight for me?”

“Uh huh,” he can barely word his thoughts properly, face smashed against the sheets and fingers grabbing uselessly at the sheets as he’s fucked, ass up and taking everything.

Minseok tsks, slaps him again, Kyungsoo is so close to screaming. “Your words, baby.”

“You expect me to use, _fuck,_ words, when you’re destroying my ass?” he hisses.

“Seem to be doing just fine, then,” Minseok says, and he’s an _asshole,_ but he fucks him harder for all it’s worth, other hand coming down and smacking his other cheek, and Kyungsoo tightens around him, wailing.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ oh my god, fuck me,” he says, too loudly, fuck all the others sleeping already.

“That’s better,” Minseok says, sinking into Kyungsoo and filling him up. “Gonna ruin you, Soo.”

“Do it, do it,” Kyungsoo breathes, and Minseok holds his head down to the bed, and _fucks him,_ their skin slapping together and Kyungsoo gives up.

He _screams,_ crying, cock painfully hard and Minseok praises him, loving words punctuated with sharp thrusts of his cock driving inside him, and the mattress does little to muffle the noise, his yelling reverberating throughout the room and Kyungsoo is sure that it can be heard through the walls.

He hopes the others can hear him, begging for cock, begging for Minseok to fuck him, and Minseok telling him how tight he is, how he takes him so well.

“Come on my cock, darling,” Minseok says, voice low and barely controlled and Kyungsoo is making him sound like that, making him slip and hammer into his ass, hard and desperately fast, giving him everything.

With the way Minseok is ramming into his body, it won’t take much, heat already swirling in the pit of his stomach, his balls heavy and painful, and it won’t be long.

Minseok palms his ass as he grinds into him, sinking his length in deeper, as deep as he can, and Kyungsoo isn’t prepared for the way he brings both his hands down on his ass, on either cheek, the plush flesh bouncing, and Kyungsoo is gone.

He comes, cock spilling onto the sheets below, untouched and he keeps shooting off, more and more, and he shouts all the while, throat scratched from it all.

“Oh, oh fuck! _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,”_ he keeps saying, moaning and whimpering and his ass winks around the cock inside him, and he drops to the bed completely, uncaring of the wet spot he’d made staining his sweater.

“Beautiful, baby,” Minseok leans down, turning his head a little more and covering his body with his, kissing his cheek, then his mouth. His lips are wet, slightly salty, and Kyungsoo realizes then that he’d been crying, and he chases Minseok’s lips, sighing against his mouth, deeply comforted, and he feels so good, his head in the clouds. “You alright?”

“Perfect,” he says, his voice soft, slightly trembling. He hadn’t been fucked like this in a good long time, and only Minseok can make him feel this way. “Come on my ass. Please, daddy.”

“Hmm, alright, baby,” Minseok says, biting the shell of his ear affectionately, and there’s a hand on the small of his back, pushing him down and keep him in place, and Kyungsoo moans when Minseok resumes his pace, thrusting into his fucked out body.

Kyungsoo is sore, ass stinging with the slap of their bodies meeting, reamed out by Minseok’s cock and his hole keeps swallowing him up greedily, rough push after rough push into his body, and he’s in heaven, he thinks. Closes his eyes when Minseok pulls out of him, and hums to himself when he feels wetness shoot over his ass, Minseok coming and moaning as he spills over his slap-sensitive skin, some of it pooling on the small of his back, the dip of his spine. It’s a lot of come, and he sighs, his ass winking around nothing, and he feels _amazing._

“Oh, Kyungsoo. Amazing, baby,” Minseok says, smearing his come over his ass, dipping the substance slightly inside his hole with his thumb.

Kyungsoo moans, squeezing around the digit, and it’s hot, so hot, and he’s so tired and fucked out but can’t help the way his cock is stirring with interest again.

“I feel like I may have been too rough,” Minseok says quietly, bringing his thumb out, and stroking the pink skin of his ass gently with his hand. Kyungsoo shivers a little, but his heart is warm. “Are you okay, my love?”

“Yes. I’m okay,” he says, humming, turning over slightly and puckering his lips. Minseok doesn’t wait to bend down and kiss him, sugar sweet and licking into his mouth. “I’m gonna have a sex limp, I’m excited.”

Minseok snorts, but he starts stripping him of his clothes, getting the pants out of the way completely, and he gets naked too, and Kyungsoo has his hands on him immediately, touching and getting him close, feeling really, really good.

“Do you think we woke them up?” he asks, and Kyungsoo has no doubt. “I know Sehun has an early shoot, he needs the sleep.”

They hear a thump against the wall, and a muffled moan. The walls are thick, a place this nice has to have good construction, but it’s only so much when headboard are slamming against walls.

“Hmm, Junmyeon is helping him out, I wouldn’t worry,” Kyungsoo says, wrapping all his limbs around Minseok and keeping him close, getting him hot, and Minseok pauses, looks at him.

“Are you getting hard again?” he asks, and Kyungsoo rolls his hips up, his cock against Minseok’s thigh a telling sign.

“Them fucking because of us is making me want to fuck again,” he says, and Minseok laughs.

“It’s not a competition,” he says, and Kyungsoo tuts. Turns them over, so he’s on top, looking down at Minseok as he guides his cock to slide between his cheeks, squeezing around him. He watches as Minseok’s eyes get dark, and Kyungsoo smirks.

“Who says we were competing?” he says, stroking his own length. “We’re all getting off, we all win. I’m just winning more.”

Minseok smirks up at him, and Kyungsoo is in love all over again.

.

.

“Hyung, isn’t that Minnie’s belt?” Jongin is asking Yixing, making him blink, look down at his waist.

“Huh?” he says, genuinely confused. “No, this is mine.”  
“I really think it might be Minseok’s belt,” Jongin says, bending down, looking at it carefully, face close enough to his crotch that if someone were to walk in now, they might think that the two of them were taking their practice break to blow each other. Which has happened more than a few times, before. Sehun’s even joined them, more than once. “He said he’d been looking for this one, the one with the studs.”   
“I don’t think so, I’ve been wearing this one for a few months,” Yixing says, looking down as well, making Jongin stand up properly. Now was not a time for dick sucking. “Wouldn’t he have noticed it with me, then?”

Jongin blinks, then says, “Hmm. Maybe. Minnie has so many clothes, he might have just missed it.”

“I don’t think he’ll miss it much,” Yixing says, and he smiles. Jongin smiles back, and he says, “We have a lot more to cover, we should get back to it, Nini,” and he starts the music back up, tapping to the beat he’d made for them to dance to. It’s not quite finished, still feels like some more refinement is needed, but he likes it enough. He need a little more _perfect,_ though.

.

He and Minseok were a little complicated. In the way that they’ve known each other for close to a decade, at least a few years before he had met any of the other boys, studying music together in university, rooming together in a nice but cozy apartment near campus, sleeping together on occasion, then rather often by the end.

Minseok had asked him to stay when he’d told him his plans of moving back to China after graduating, and it was at that point he’d realized Minseok had fallen in love with him, quietly and deeply.

He’d loved him too. Just as deeply, just as quietly. But he went back to China anyway, and they didn’t speak for several years.

He’d found success, making music, promoting there and singing and dancing. He was very happy, doing what he’d set out to do; being an artist that produced his own music, promoting Chinese music in the ways he’d wanted too.

It’s not like he had magically forgotten about the quiet genius back in Korea, who knew how to get him gasping and kissed him with so much sensitivity, making his heart warm. He never could, probably.

He’d gone back when his studio had thought it a good idea to expand his career, seeing as he’d had a sizeable fanbase in Korea, and he’d been hesitant, initially. There were many skeletons in the closet, and a man he hadn’t seen in many years chief among them.

He had debuted in Korea, met a lot of success as well, and he’d toured there for a while, going around cities and doing fanmeets, fansigns, and it was only a matter of time, before he’d see him again.

It was after his first solo concert to an audience of over 20,000 strong, as it had turned out. Backstage, sweaty and just having taken off his sweat dampened shirt, and then Kim Minseok and his arm around the waist of a beautiful, adorable boy with red hair, who looked at Yixing shyly, blushing, but his gaze steady, and hungry were right in front of him, door closed behind them.

“Hello, Yixing,” Minseok greeted him first. “Congratulations, the show was quite divine.”

He had looked at him, and then laughed, couldn’t quite believe he’s here, right in front of him. His gaze hadn’t changed since university, neither had his taste in expensive all-black ensembles, though the brands have gotten even more luxurious. He’s sure Minseok was in head-to-toe Versace, and he wore it extremely well.

“Hi, Min,” he said, smiling. He felt like putting on his shirt again, but Minseok’s. Guest, he supposed, stared hard at his chest, and the attention felt rather nice, so he just laid down the shirt on the back of the couch, and looked back up at Minseok as he wiped himself down with a towel, “What are you doing here? Didn’t know Chinese pop was up your alley?”

“I love all music, Yixing. Just because I’m focused on classical does not mean I can’t appreciate all forms and genres,” he said, smiling serenely. “I pulled some strings, and, well. Baekhyun here, he’s a very big fan.”

He squeezed the waist of his company, and he, _Baekhyun,_ blushed a little more, but his gaze stayed steady still on Yixing.

“Oh, thank you,” Yixing thanked him, and Baekhyun smiled back. He’s gorgeous, and somehow, being on Minseok’s waist, it had made him even _more_ beautiful, made Yixing want him a little more. Want them both.

“You have a really pretty smile,” Baekhyun said, still blushing, but he had looked. Confident, sure, and Yixing found him immediately intriguing. All the more beautiful. Minseok’s smile, fond and full of love, directed towards this man on his arm, is just as beautiful something Yixing had worked hard to try to forget, but never could.

“Thank you,” he said, nodding a little, coming forward to shake his hand, which Baekhyun does, sliding his hand into his palm and holding them together. His fingers are slender, long, and Yixing grasped them, wanting to hold a little longer, but he draws back, reminding himself of who he is.

Baekhyun smiled again as they part, a little wider, leaning towards Minseok some more and Minseok, not even bothering to be discrete or subtle, kisses the corner of his mouth, lingering slightly.  

Yixing’s chest ached with the sight, but he doesn’t speak, just watched them still, Minseok telling his. His boyfriend, really, “Baek, baby, I hate to do this, but can Yixing and I talk alone, for a little bit? Just to catch up?”

“Oh, of course,” he said, nodding, and Minseok accepted the kiss to his lips so easily. Yixing could not look away, watched as Baekhyun left the room, and he and Minseok were left in the room. It wasn’t quite as awkward as he’d expected it to be.

“He’s cute,” Yixing said, and Minseok smiled.

“He really is,” he replied, and Yixing looked at him, really looked. He hasn’t changed much at all. “Does he know, that we-”

“Yes, he knows,” Minseok confirmed.

Yixing nodded, not really knowing what else he could do. “How many are they?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know you have more than one,” he said, and Minseok’s face didn’t change. “More than one soulmate. It’s okay.”

“I know it’s okay,” Minseok said. Yixing breathed deeply, waiting for the next words. “How did you know?”

“Word gets around easily in the producers circle. It’s a small field,” Yixing answered, and Minseok sighed.

“Chanyeol. That kid.”

“He didn’t mean for it to come out,” Yixing said, “He had writer’s block and it was making him tired and just saying anything, and it was just me who heard. Don’t get mad at him.”

“I’m not mad at him,” MInseok said, sighing a little. “I don’t care much for who knows. It’s just that he must be more careful of what he says when he’s exhausted. This, I don’t mind so much, but next time, it could be something more incriminating.”

“Having three boyfriends isn’t incriminating?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?” Yixing blinked. Minseok didn’t move, just smiled again. “So. You’re like, a sugar daddy? To seven men? And that’s not incriminating?”

“It’s not, and I’m not a sugar daddy,” he answered, “they all have their own jobs that pay well and they work their keep.”

“But they all live with you and you spoil them rotten with designer clothes and expensive vacations and anything they want under the sun?” Yixing asked. Minseok’s smile had been a little more mysterious. “Shit, Min. How do you even have enough to do that for all of them?”

“My gig pays well,” he replied, and Yixing snorted, knowing a lot better, knowing Minseok too well to believe it.

“Classical music and orchestras and symphonies may look like a world of opulence but the truth is it’s been stealing money from the artists for centuries,” Yixing said. Minseok still didn’t move, looked dignified as hell. “The patrons are the rich ones, and they can only give you so much.”

“What are you saying, Xing?” he said, challenging him.

Yixing bites, “So. You still have your other job.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please, Minseok. I’ve known you for years. I know,” he said. Minseok’s eyes shook slightly.

“I was born into it, I had no choice,” he said serenely. Yixing snorted.

“Yes, you do. Just say you enjoy it so it’s easier on all of us.”

Minseok bristled, eyes narrowed slightly at him, and his lips pursed downward, obviously not liking his tone. “If it means my boys can live comfortably, then yes. I do, in a way, enjoy it. You know full well that the only way I would be allowed to pursue music was if I took over the business. And, it didn’t stop you then.”

“Yeah, it didn’t,” is all he said. Minseok paused, looking at him.

“Will it stop you now?”

Yixing smirked. “I don’t know. Take me out to drinks and we’ll see.”

It didn’t stop him, at all. Minseok had taken him out for said drinks the following night, just them alone, and they ended up ripping their clothes off of each other when they got back to his hotel room, not even making it to the bed, fucking on the floor and the wall next to the door.

It was a wild night, and then Yixing went back to China for another schedule, and then when he returned to Korea, not a peep. And he’d been too afraid to peep first, not knowing if it was something Minseok wanted to happen.

He’d already had seven other boys, who made him happy and. What was the use for another?

It was Baekhyun who peeped for them both, coming to his studio and the words clear from his beautiful mouth, _“You’ve been on Minnie’s mind. He has a lot of pride, but he misses you. Just can’t admit it to your face because you mean a lot to him. Still do.”_

He had gone back with Baekhyun to their place to give Minseok a piece of his mind, ready to berate him for being so cowardly that one of his boyfriends had to be the one to confess for him.

They fought, then they fucked again.

They date slowly, things calmed down, then Yixing sleeps with Baekhyun, making him sob with pleasure and writhe around on his cock, and then he’d fucked Jongdae, who was vocal and soft and took care of him so well, then eventually everyone.

“You have to stop leading them on,” Minseok said to him one day, closing the door behind him in Yixing’s studio. He looked angry. Yixing blinked, not knowing what he was talking about. “My boys, all of them, even if they don’t admit it. They’re sensitive, and they love easily. Too easily. If you’re not going to be there, be with us, then you can’t keep sleeping with them then leaving.”

“I don’t leave,” Yixing said.

Minseok’s voice was shaky when he answered, “Yes, _you did.”_

And Yixing realized. It wasn’t just the others he was talking about. “I’m sorry I left. I don’t regret it, but I regret leaving you. Leaving you heartbroken. I really, truly, do love you.”

“Fuck you,” Minseok bit out, and. He and Minseok fight, Minseok thinking he’s leading on his boys, knowing that they were already attached to Yixing, but Yixing had gotten attached as well, and he’d gotten angry in return, hurt that Minseok would think of him so poorly in that way. Hurt that he would think that he didn’t love him enough to be anything but sincere.

There was so much between them. So much unresolved. They left it all out, ugly words and hurt and they said everything.

Minseok eventually yelled at him, sounding close to tears, “So don’t leave. Stay with me, this time. I don’t want to live without you anymore. I’m tired of not being with you.”

This time, Yixing did.

.

It’s not often Minseok visits the mirrored practice room he’d had installed for Jongin in the mansion, one that Yixing would come to use just as often, if not more, when he was in Korea.

It’s a shame, because Minseok was a _beautiful_ dancer, fluid and yet sharp with his movements, such a wonder to watch, but he’s quite firm in being more focused on making the music instead of dancing to it.

But he closes the door behind him, and Yixing sees him immediately, pausing the music and inhaling and exhaling deeply as he gets his breathing back to calm from all the dancing he’d been doing.

“They said I’d find you here,” Minseok says first. “Jongin said you’d still be practicing when he left a few hours ago.”

“I have quite a bit to finish,” he says, bringing the hem of his shirt up to wipe his sweat, not missing the way Minseok stares at the sliver of skin he exposes.

“Hmm. How are comeback preparations?” he asks.

“It’s fine. A little slower paced than usual, but that’s good,” he answers, and Minseok nods, feigning to look less interested than he really was, but Yixing knows better. Knows Minseok is extremely supportive of his career, whether here or back in China. Knows about Minseok more or less sponsoring him, the exorbitant amount he invests for his promotions here and abroad. Even knows about all the physical copies of the albums he buys, boxes of them, which he redistributes to fans who can’t afford them after. He’s thankful for him, even though he does entirely too much.

“That’s good,” Minseok says, and he stands a little straighter. Seems like he’s gathering his words, and says, “Jongin told me you were wearing my belt. I wanted to check if it was right.”

“I’m really sure this is mine,” Yixing says, and Minseok tuts, coming forward to unbuckle the belt. “Hey, _hey,_ Minnie, come on-“

“I’ve been looking for this for _weeks,”_ he says, pulling out the belt from the loops of Yixing’s jeans, much to his chagrin, and he frowns at Minseok.

He’s not perturbed, saying still, “Remember that photoshoot you had for your comeback, for your third album? When I followed you to China and watched as they shot your album layout?”

Yixing blinks, as Minseok pulls the belt completely from his waist, holding it out with nimble hands. “Well. Yes. Of course.”

Minseok hums, continuing, “So you must remember when the stylists got pants a size too big for you and _none_ of the belts they had at their disposal were to your liking and it just so happened that the Saint Laurent belt I was wearing at the time, newly bought too, just so happened to fit in with the theme? And I happily lent it for a few photos?”

Yixing blinks even more, and feels his face slowly turning red when he realizes, and Minseok just continues, “And it just looked _so good_ on you, so I let you wear it still. And. You never returned it.”

He’s quiet for a bit. Then, he says, “I really thought it was mine. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Xingie baby,” Minseok says, looping the belt around his neck and reeling him towards him, kissing him deeply. He licks into his mouth, and Yixing licks back, breathing deeply. Feels like he’s dancing again.

“Kinky,” he mutters when Minseok pulls him in even nearer via tugging on the belt, and Minseok just laughs, amused.

“Not kinky. I just like kissing you,” Minseok smiles, kissing him again, lips velvet smooth and Yixing sighs, kissing back. “And your short term memory. It’s endearing. And here I thought you took my clothes to tease me into sex like the others.”

Ah. He _did_ notice the other boys wearing some of Minseok’s things, but he didn’t think much of it. If they had a hard time walking the next day, well.

“Is that a bad thing, that they do that?” he asks, and Minseok chuckles against his mouth.

“Ah. No, it’s not. It’s cute too,” he says, “And seeing them in my things. I won’t deny, it _does_ do things to me. It’s _extremely_ attractive.”

Yixing swallows, their proximity making him sweat a little more. “So. Does the belt. Are we going to fuck now?”

Minseok raises an eyebrow. “Is that something you want to happen?”

“Well,” he shrugs, thinking. “So far, four out of eight.”

“Do you want it to be five out of eight?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” he says, reaching down, patting Minseok’s ass, then squeezing.

Minseok’s face doesn’t react much, but Yixing knows well enough to know, it’s in the way he swallows, blinks slowly, lips quiver. He’s interested. More than interested.

And Yixing. Minseok _is Minseok._ He’ll always want to be near, always want to touch him, ravish him in any capacity he can.

And he and Minseok have yet to fuck in the practice room.

“Can I eat you out?” he asks, and Minseok is rarely ever shocked or surprised, but he laughs, and his cheeks pink up. Adorable.

“How forward,” he says, but there’s a hint of a yes. Yixing waits, and is rewarded, “I mean. _I wouldn’t say no.”_

Yixing grins, really a big smirk, and he backs them up to the wall. Minseok raises an eyebrow, but Yixing makes him turn about, making him face his reflection on the mirrored wall, sets his hands on the surface.

“Well. This is a change of pace,” Minseok says, and Yixing smirks again. It must be, for Minseok, who is basically a dom-but-not-really-a-dom to the other boys, their fixed point. The one they all turn to and trust to baby them when they want it.

He and Minseok weren’t ever like that.

They were all equals, in the mansion. Loved each other as equals, supported each other as equals. Minseok was their _sugar daddy,_ though, so they would look at him a little differently.

For Yixing though, Minseok was Minseok. And they pushed on each other’s buttons a little bit and supported each other intimately and they _loved_ each other.

Yixing gets down on his knees, pulls his pants and underwear down to his thighs, and doesn’t wait, doesn’t tease. Gets his mouth on Minseok’s ass and _licks,_ hole to the top of his crack, and Minseok gasps, ass pushing back on instinct.

“They all wanted your dick that much?” Yixing grins against his hole, tracing the rim with his tongue, spreading his cheeks with his thumbs.

“You can’t blame them,” Minseok says, still sounding smug despite having his ass eaten out.

“Oh, I don’t,” Yixing says, “I’m expecting to be dicked down too. But after I dick _you_ down.”

“How romantic,” Minseok drawls, and Yixing chuckles despite himself, before diving back in, licking into him, burying his tongue in him.

Minseok moans, arching back and Yixing digs his tongue in even deeper, face in Minseok’s ass wholeheartedly as he rims him, fucks him with his tongue. He sounds good, making all the noises he’s making as Yixing gives him everything, making him feel good.

“Yixing, fuck, _fuck,”_ Minseok’s voice is a little less controlled, but still low, soft, and he’s not one to whimper. But he doesn’t fail to let Yixing know just how good he’s making him feel, little praises slipping out of his mouth, and it spurs him on. Makes him lick in a little deeper, give his ass all the attention he can give it.

The sounds are more than obscene, swears and moans pouring out of Minseok’s lips, and the slick, wet noises of Yixing more or less making out with Minseok’s hole are more than heard in the room, bouncing off the walls and making him sweat, making him stiff in his pants and mouth water with want.

“You taste so sweet,” Yixing murmurs against his hole, wanting to bury his face in there forever, lick Minseok out for hours and make him fall apart. It doesn’t happen often, if at all, Minseok having the stamina of gods and an insane sex drive that’s more than enough for all of them, the dreamiest of dream sugar daddies, but Minseok is a little more relaxed with Yixing. With how long they’ve known each other, Yixing _knows,_ and Minseok lets his guard down a little more.

“Hmm.  You going to open me up any time soon?” Minseok asks, pushing his ass out a little more, and Yixing chuckles, right where he’s still tonguing him.

“Would you happen to know where Jongin hides the condoms and lube here?” he asks, and Minseok laughs, muttering a _“yeah,”_ before he walks off to get them, and. That kid, unbelievable, hid them behind the speakers, and he would laugh, but Minseok is kissing him, pushing him down to the ground from where he tries to stand, settling on his lap, and they’re grabbing at each other, stripping each other of their clothes and they’re naked in moments.

Minseok, though, reaches back for the belt, loops it around the back of Yixing’s neck, playful glint in his eyes, and Yixing smirks back, allowing himself to be pulled in for another kiss, moaning into Minseok’s mouth as he rolls his hips down on top of him, their cocks sliding against each other, almost fully hard.

“Ah, _ah,”_ Yixing hisses slightly, and Minseok bites his lip as the kiss harder, nails digging into his skin slightly, “Min, _fuck_. We might want to hurry, before we get walked in on.”

“Please, like you wouldn’t enjoy that,” Minseok snorts, but he hands the lube over to Yixing, and they get their fingers wet with it. “How many times have Jongin and Sehun tag teamed you?”

“It’s more of, me and Jongin tag teaming Sehun. Or me and Sehun tag teaming Nini,” he clarifies uselessly, and Minseok just grins, before reaching back behind himself and Yixing watches as his mouth curls in pleasure, eyes shutting as he inserts a finger inside himself. He watches for a minute, and then he can’t wait anymore, reaches back as well, and pushes his finger inside where Minseok is fingering himself open, and Minseok moans right into his ear, body leaning forward onto his and trembling slightly as they stretch him open in tandem.

Yixing kisses him again as he starts thrusting in with two fingers, Minseok groaning a little louder, fucking into his hole harder, and Yixing decides it’s enough. Knows Minseok likes it a little rough, and three is enough to stretch him just enough to makes him _feel it._

“Ride me,” he says after he’d rolled on a condom and slicked himself up, and Minseok grins, the look in his eyes mischievous, and he sets himself up on his knees, hovering above Yixing, and he’s reaching back, taking Yixing’s length and guiding it to his ass, but. He doesn’t push it in, staying up and teasing him, rubbing his cock over _right_ where Yixing wants to go, and he’s _infuriating,_ hot as hell, and Yixing would growl, but he’s more refined than that.

“Something wrong?” Minseok says lightly. He inches down a little, but it’s barely anything, barely the head of his cock inside.

Yixing hisses at him. Grips at Minseok’s waist, and brings him down as he thrusts up, and finally, he’s sinking down on to his cock in a lightning pace. They both moan, loudly, and Yixing doesn’t waste time. Drives up into Minseok and plunging into him, and Minseok is so _tight,_ gloriously clenching around him and he’s warm, and he’s getting harder as he fucks in harder, pounding into him from below.

“Oh, Xing, _that’s it,”_ Minseok breathes, and his eyes are closed, head thrown back as he rolls his hips down, and his smile is serene, coy as he takes his cock inside. “So good, fuck.”

“Fucking tight, Min,” he breathes, and Minseok hisses, pushes him down to his back with his palms on his chest, and he’s leaning over him, kissing him dirty, with plenty of tongue and teeth.

“Stay down,” he more or less orders as he gets back up, and Yixing would protest, but Minseok begins _bouncing_ on his cock, and Yixing moans, can’t do much more than watch Minseok, barely breaking a sweat as he rides Yixing, watches his cock disappear inside him, watches as Minseok’s own length bounces from his exertion, dragging along his stomach. Yixing is turned on out of his mind, and he holds Minseok’s thighs, rubbing them with his hands, and Minseok looks down at him, sly smile gracing his lips, hands pulling at the ends of the belt as he fucks down on him, and he’s a shit, a shit he’s deeply in love with, but still.

“Fuck, _fuck, fuck,”_ he moans, and Minseok, who’s seriously the _worst_ and the _best,_ strokes Yixing’s chin with his fingers, then, decisively pushes his chin back, until his head is tilted and Yixing can see the reflection behind him on the mirrored wall, and he chokes on a breath when he sees Minseok, sitting proudly on his cock, fucking himself with measured rolls of his hips, muscles rippling on his body, and the most searing smirk on his face, mouth opening slightly when he moans as he sinks down on his length over and over.

“So big, Yixing,” Minseok purrs, rolling his hips and grinding down on his dick, and Yixing feels like he’s about to lose his mind. “Fill me up, so _fucking good,”_ he praises, back arched and head thrown back, neck stretched out and Yixing watches it all from the mirror, filthy and perfect, the way they are together. “Don’t come, I still want to fuck you after.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he says indignantly, but for naught, because Minseok _rides him,_ bouncing on his cock and filling himself up until Yixing feels his ass pressing against his balls, over and over in a mindblowing pace, and he chokes, _doesn’t_ whimper or whine because he doesn’t want to give Minseok the satisfaction, but _fuck_ he knows how to ride him, take his cock so well, knows how to drive Yixing crazy with how he sinks down on his dick.

And it’s entirely _unfair,_ because Minseok is going for it, clenching around him, moaning and taking him into his hole like he’d been made for it, and he’s so tight and feels so good and Yixing shuts his eyes, the image too much.

Then he’s pulling off completely, hovering still over him, ass open and stretched just above where Yixing’s cock is standing, infuriatingly stiff from where it had been just inside him. Yixing huffs, annoyed, too close to coming, but he moves easily when Minseok spreads his legs open for him, humming when a slicked up finger touches his rim, circling a bit.

“If you’re gonna finger me, don’t half-ass it. Just _do it,”_ he bites, and Minseok grins. And does it, _does it well,_ pushing it in and Yixing bites his lip, hard, enjoying the slight sting, pushing back for more.

Minseok makes quick work of it, one finger, then two fingers, then three fingers. Yixing knows, as well as he knows Minseok likes it rough, knows that Minseok knows him so well that he likes it even _rougher._

He’s shoving in, fucking Yixing with his fingers and keeping him stretched, getting him open. Yixing’s legs almost shake with how much he needs to be fucked, get his fill, and he can barely keep his noises in.

“Can’t wait to get fucked, huh?” Minseok mutters, and Yixing tries to scoff, but it comes out as a grunt when Minseok crooks his fingers just so, and he’s a mess on the floor, cock hard and leaking at the tip slightly and his body aching with the need to be filled.

“Shut the fuck up and stick it in,” he says, and Minseok laughs, and he hates him so much. But he’s not cruel, and he’s rolling on a condom and spreading lube all over his thick length.

Yixing’s chest shudders in relief when he finally sinks in, and it stings a bit. He’s not stretched enough and he feels _everything,_ and it’s exactly how he likes it. He moans, ass winking around Minseok’s cock as he adjusts for a moment, then Minseok is pulling out, then pushing in, _hard,_ driving his hard length into his hole, sure of his welcome.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ I love you,” he says, and Minseok smiles down at him, kissing him, lips like steam and silk against his mouth.

“I love you,” he answers, giving the words easily, lovingly, and he fucks into Yixing, pounding into him, cock so thick and perfect inside him.

Minseok fucks like a dream, ramming into Yixing and sinking his length into his hole, and Yixing arches his back as he moans, taking it all, knows it will hurt tomorrow in more ways than one. The floor is unkind to his back, the surface too hard as he’s fucked into it, and Minseok thrusts into him hard, harder, and it will hurt when he walks, when he comes back here to practice more tomorrow. Knows his ass will ache and it’s such a comforting, _beautiful_ thought, and it makes him spread his legs even more, Minseok’s cock throbbing as it plunges into him.

It won’t take long at all. “Min, Min, _fuck-“_

“A little bit more, baby,” he murmurs, and Yixing holds on to him, arms around Minseok’s strong shoulders and pulling him closer.

Minseok lifts him up slightly by the hips, ass raised for him to sink into, and Yixing breathes, pants and gasps as he’s fucked thoroughly, and he wants to touch himself, feeling hot all over and ready to snap, but he knows Minseok can get him there.

He feels Minseok pull at the ends of the belt again, and it temporarily shocks him, forgotten that it had even been there, but he remembers now, and he moans, loudly, echoing through the room, as the leather pushes down on the back of his neck as Minseok hammers into him, pulling on the belt and joining their lips together in a searing kiss.

“Fuck, _shit, make me come,”_ he moans, voiced choked, and he tries not to lose his mind too much.

Minseok smirks down at him, but it’s not mean, and he kisses Yixing sweetly, licking across his lips, fucking him so smoothly but in the pace Yixing craves, hard and making him lose his breath still, so fucking good.

It’s not long at all, with the way Minseok had been riding him and bounced on his cock like he was thirsting for it, and certainly not with the way Minseok had been giving him his hard cock, plunging into his ass. He’s too close, and his orgasm rushes into him, making him moan and gasp as he squeezes around Minseok’s dick still fucking into him, making him full.

“Oh, that’s it, Xing,” Minseok breathes lowly, stripping the condom still on him and then watching with reverent eyes as Yixing shoots ribbons of white between them, up his chest, and he’s trembling slightly as he comes down. “Too much?”

“No, go for it,” he says, and Minseok does. Doubles his pace and pushes his cock into his fucked out body, and Yixing hums, still feeling good, slightly sensitive but it’s not yet too much. Loves the way Minseok fucks into him in an almost desperate pace, needing to come, chasing his own orgasm. It’s when he squeezes around him, clenching his ass around his hammering thickness, that Minseok moans lowly, breathing hard as he spills into the condom, still fucking him through it all, and Yixing sighs, feeling more than perfect, more than satisfied. He blinks at him, calming him with a gentle kiss to his shoulder, right over the three matching scars, small, dark and round against his skin, another part of him he’s come to know, and love.

“Oh, shit,” he says, wincing a little as Minseok pulls out, and he can tell as early as now, dancing and walking will be hell. It’s kind of exciting, but he won’t say it out loud. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Yixing,” Minseok says, still smirking, but the kiss he gives him is soft, and it’s calming. Yixing breathes him in, loves him a lot. Glad he’d stayed.

“Gonna show of my sex limp to the others tomorrow,” he says, and Minseok snorts. “Aren’t you getting tired? Five out of eight?”

“I’ll never tire when it comes to all of you,” Minseok says, “Though it’s been getting a little more difficult, finding my clothing.”

“Hmm. You have work tomorrow?” he asks, trusting Minsok to know what he really means.

He does. “Yeah. I’ll try not to be gone for too long. Just. Just some shipments, then I’ll be home.”

“You should tell them, soon,” he says, and Minseok smiles a little sadly.

“I want to.”

“You should, they’ll understand.”

“When the time is right,” he says, and Yixing knows Minseok doesn’t go back on his word, ever. He knows he’ll come clean, knows the day will come where things will be out in the open. But for now, he clings on to him, pulling him close in a sweaty embrace and the lay on the hard floor of the practice room, kissing, staying.

.

.

Jongin  _ loves  _ pet duty. Will switch with any of the others for their pet duty days, will gladly clean up after poop and the dogs biting at his fingers and Tan, Minseok’s cat and the one of the only two kitties in their pile of dogs, pointedly ignoring him, because he loves playing with them and feeding them and walking them together, all at once. 

It’s his turn today, and he’s bouncing down the stairs, getting ready to prep them all for a walk around the massive grounds of the mansion estate, when someone  pulls on the back of his shirt before he gets to the bottom of the stairs, surprising him.

He turns to look, and it’s Sehun, who’s staring at him, or more specifically, what he’s wearing. 

“You can do better than that,” he says frankly, and Jongin frowns.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he says, and Sehun gives him a look. 

“Why wear your  _ awful  _ sleep shirt, when you could wear  _ this,”  _ Sehun waves a shirt in front of him then, and Jongin blinks, staring at it for several moments, before he finally recognizes it. 

“That’s Minseok’s, isn’t it?” 

“He hasn’t worn it in  _ months,”  _ he says, spreading it open and holding it in his hands, showing it to him. It’s a sweater of black cashmere, gorgeous and fluffy, but there’s a reason Minseok hadn’t worn it for more than a few times. 

“I can’t wear that, Hunnie,” he says, “it was inches too short for Minnie, how much more for me?”

“It’s like a chic crop sweater, you know, it’s going to be a huge trend,” Sehun says, basically throwing it on him, and Jongin throws it back at him. 

“It’s  _ winter,  _ I can’t wear this!” 

“Wear it so you can get fucked!” Sehun says, eyes glinting. “You don’t want to be the last to get your fill, do you? I’m just trying to help you!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he says, “how’s the sweater supposed to help?”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Sehun stares at him, “if you wear Min’s clothes and he notices, you’ll get the dicking down of  _ your life  _ and get a sex limp. Don’t you want that?”

“Well, why  _ this  _ sweater, of everything he has?”

_ “Because,  _ Nini,” Sehun rolls his eyes at him, and Jongin is about to deck him for being so infuriating so early in the morning. He’d been excited to get to walk the dogs, the only reason he’ll really ever get up at this hour, but Sehun isn’t making any sense and it’s driving him up the wall. “Everyone knows how much Minseok  _ loves  _ your tum-tum. Will take all opportunities to worship it. I’m doing you both a favor.”

“Oh, is that Min’s?” Jongdae passes by them down the stairs, stopping next to them and looking at the garment in Sehun’s hands. “You’d look  _ so good  _ in that, Nini.”

Jongin ignores the look Sehun gives him, makes to leave, but Sehun is asking Jongdae before he can do so, “Think he’ll get fucked if he wears it, hyung?”

“Oh,  _ yes,”  _ Jongdae says. Sehun’s smile is triumphant, and Jongin wishes he had the energy to lift up a leg to kick his ass. “A good dicking down and some body worship, too.”

“Fine!  _ Fine,  _ give it, just so you’ll shut up,” Jongin takes it from Sehun, glaring at him, and he bounds down the stairs to get away from him, but he’s not fast enough to not hear Sehun yell out,  _ “You’ll thank me later, Jongin!” _

.

Jongin was doing well on his own, really. 

He’d graduated with surprisingly high marks, and pursued a career in dance. Dancing in a company, doing all sorts of genres, always willing to learn something new and expand his repertoire, teaching on the side, and. He’d become viral by accident, when he’d uploaded a video of him practicing on the rooftop of his apartment on Youtube for his former instructor in school to look over, and. It had become a rather fruitful venture, posting his recordings of his dances online, and it was income on the side, too. 

It was all good, the experience, people watching him through this medium, commenting kindly and praising him for his fluidity, grace and movement, his creativity. He’d met some wonderful people through it, many collaborators, met Sehun, and their video is still his most watched, many millions of views and hundreds of thousands of comments, and he was doing well. Really well.

He posted a lyrical dance to  _ ‘Cotton Concerto,’  _ a moving, powerful short orchestra piece by a composer Sehun had made him listen to, and he was instantly enamored with the sound, the music making his blood thrum, made his muscles want to  _ move,  _ make art. It was quick work, barely an hour of choreographing, a bit more for recording, and it was up before the night had been gone. 

It had become an instant favorite of his, something he would come back to when he would be feeling stuck, uninspired. It was not his usual, very different from what he had already done for his channel, but this one. It was for him.

Imagine his surprise when one day, after he was done teaching a hip-hop class at the company, Sehun would come in, arm looped around the elbow of a man. Short in stature, but his presence immediately striking, overwhelming.  _ Powerful,  _ dressed in head-to-toe black, and his eyes, lined with clean black and shining with shimmer across the highest part of his cheeks and his lips. Beautiful,  _ beautiful.  _

“Nini, this is Kim Minseok,” Sehun had said. It takes a moment, and Jongin’s eyes go wide, “he saw the video you posted dancing to his song.”

“I was very impressed,” he said, and his voice. High lilt but words low, praise effusive, genuine. Jongin could barely move. “I hope you don’t mind, I asked Sehun if I could meet you. I just wanted to thank you, personally. It was a very moving performance.”

“I. No, your piece. It, it was very. Creatively stimulating,” he said, and he felt incredibly stupid. Blushed, felt gross and sweaty and underdressed, but Minseok had kept looking at him, intrigued, and. Fond, almost.

“I’m honored, that such a beautiful dance would be borne of it,” he said, and Jongin can hear his truth. “Thank you.”

He had seen Minseok a few more times after. He would come to watch him dance, watch him teach. Sometimes with Sehun, others without. Consistently, however, there would always be a meal. Quiet, between the two of them, conversation easy and unhurried, just them. 

Jongin found himself falling, without meaning to. Even after he had discovered that he and Sehun were actually much more serious than Sehun had initially let on. Even after discovering that Sehun hadn’t been the only one, in Minseok’s heart, Minseok telling him honestly himself. He still fell, and felt inadequate. 

_ He had more than enough love given to him,  _ he had thought sadly.  _ What use would I be? I’d just get in the way. I’m probably the least of what he would ever deserve.  _

So. He hadn’t tried, his shyness and inability to get over himself getting in the way. It hadn’t stopped him from realizing how truly in love he was, and it just made him all the more sad for it. 

It comes to a head, during the major concert of the company for the year. 

“He bailed.”

“What do you mean,  _ ‘he bailed?’”  _ Taemin was scary, awfully loud and staring at the manager, who tried not to cower.

“The conductor, he stopped replying to me,” they said, trying to be as calm as possible. The shaking had given them away, though. “And, well. I discovered from his publicist that he had gotten himself arrested.”

“So you expect us to go out there without a conductor for the band we paid  _ thousands  _ to help us out?” Seulgi was frowning, looking just as frightening with her eyeliner and dark red lips. “We have to go out in less than three hours!”

Jongin had been texting Sehun all the drama then, frantically, under the makeup table he was sat in front, Sehun asking for more tea with each reply. 

_ This is a disaster,  _ he typed.  _ We spent so much for tonight. Not to have a conductor, it’s going to ruin everything we’d worked so hard for. _

_ ‘Didn’t think to get back-ups?’  _ Sehun replied. Jongin huffs.

_ We were rather preoccupied with hundreds of rehearsals and planning and shit,  _ he said.

_ ‘I’m about to save all your perky little asses. Thank me later.’ _

He blinked, not understanding what Sehun had sent him, but he didn’t really have the time or energy to try to. It would be answered fifteen minutes later, when Minseok would come backstage, hellishly handsome in his black turtleneck and black overcoat, rendering everyone silent as they stared at him. 

“Shit,” Taemin said, clearly recognizing him. Minseok merely smiled serenely at him, before turning his attention to Jongin, expression softening considerably. 

“Sehun said you needed help? A conductor?” he said, and Jongin nods dumbly. “I’m here if you need me, darling.”

Jongin stared at him. Then, he’d bounced out of his seat, and looped his arms around Minseok’s shoulders, kissed him.

Minseok saved them, that night. An absolute professional, his skill otherworldly as he lead the orchestra through each piece with ease, perfectly, incredibly, even with the little time he had to prepare and review all the songs for the night. 

The concert had been a success, his solo and partner dances having gone extremely well, and everyone receiving a standing ovation for the company call. Minseok had looked immensely proud, from where he had still been conducting from the orchestra pit, and Jongin was so, so in love.

_ ‘If you don’t sleep with him, I’m be real mad,’  _ Sehun texted him right when he gets backstage.

Jongin breathed deeply, staring at his phone’s screen. Replied,  _ But he’s your boyfriend. _

_ ‘But you like him too. And he likes you. We want both of you to be happy.’ _

He hadn’t known what to make of that. Hopeful, but still cautious, so many thoughts in his head. 

“You were beautiful,” Minseok said to him, as they’d met outside and Jongin had found him waiting beside a car, clearly for him. “Like a dream. Too good for this world.”

Jongin already had his guard down, and with those words, he was defenseless. Falling, faster, deeply. 

It didn’t surprise him at all, when they fell into bed together by the end of that night, in his modest apartment, Minseok pushing his perfect, hot thick cock into him as Jongin held on to the bars of his headboard, ass stretched around him, his mouth so sweet on his. He could barely keep himself from crying, overwhelmed.

He couldn’t bring himself to talk to Minseok again after that night. His shyness getting in the way, and he ended up breaking his own heart.

Sehun had barged into his class a little more than a week later, brought him back to this massive mansion. Felt like he was entering a museum, too big and too much story in it, and he realized too late where he was. Tried to run away, but then there were all these men coming in, looking at him curiously, all of them handsome. He felt really,  _ really  _ inadequate, though all of them had been kind to him, trying to make him feel welcome. Not all of them knew who he was, but they all did seem to understand  _ why  _ he was brought there. Why Sehun had dragged him here, and they were too, too kind. He wanted to cry, a little. 

Minseok had come down eventually, and Jongin had wanted to leave and run into his arms all at once, at the mere sight of him, looking surprised but still so softly happy, to see Jongin. Maybe aching a little, from not having heard from him for too long. Jongin’s body seemed to think that crying was the best compromise between these two reactions, and he was spilling tears before he’d even realized.

Minseok held his hand, wordlessly brought him up, to a large but comfortable room, simply but beautifully decorated, thinks it must be where Minseok sleeps, where he dreams and where he is most himself. He cried even more, and Minseok held his hand still.

“I’m sorry,” he had said first, even though it doesn’t make sense to Jongin. “I thought. When you didn’t contact me after, that that was what you wanted. To not make this anything else than it was.”

“I was scared. And too afraid to ask for what I wanted,” Jongin said, admitted to the man he loves most. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll make a difference here.”

“Oh, Nini,” Minseok said, voice so soft, eyes even softer. He brought a hand up to touch his jaw gently, and he said, in the most loving, tender voice, “You already have. In every way that ever mattered.”

It was slow going. He came back the next day, to have lunch with Kyungsoo, who he had been a little intimidated of at first, but ended up being a gentle soul who understood him, the last one to come before him into this tight circle of soulmates. Then dessert, with Jongdae, who had the kindest smile and a gorgeous laugh, then the next day, a movie with Baekhyun, who made him laugh, then the next day, hot chocolate with Junmyeon, then dogsitting with Chanyeol.

Minseok brought him up to his room whenever he came over, sometimes to just hold, sometimes to talk, and one time, to sleep with, their bodies fitting too well together. 

“Stay here,” he had asked. He had sounded calm, but the easy confidence he’d come to associate Minseok with, was absent. He was vulnerable, still strong, but heart open. “Stay with us. Stay with me.”

He cried. And it was the easiest decision.

.

The sweater wasn’t all that bad, actually. 

He’s still cold as hell, walking nine dogs around the small woods and through the gardens, and he’s very thankful that Minseok’s estate was private and no one would see him walking around all those animals in a top that exposed his belly, but everything considered. He feels pretty okay, knows his stomach looks good, the lines of his muscles hard-earned and after some time, he’d even stopped feeling the need to cover up his stomach, or walking in a stooped manner to somehow bring down the top a little more.

He thinks it might be because the dogs, and the two cats watching them with disinterested stares by their regal positions on the stairs and the seat everyone fights for in the lounge, are  _ the best,  _ so fluffy and all so lovely and warm, with the cutest toothy grins as they pant, barreling over each other to get pets and hugs from him. 

Pet duty usually consisted of walks in fresh air, one meal in the morning, one in the early evening, maybe one for lunch, depending on the animal and the owner’s preference (Sehun insisted Vivi be fed  _ four  _ times a day, he’s the absolute _ worst),  _ sometimes a bath (none for today, though, it’s too cold for it, but Jongin’s a little put out nonetheless), playtime, lots of grooming and brushing, a visit to the vet if needed, and overall lots of animal loving. It’s the  _ best,  _ Jongin loves it so much, it’s a lot of work and he revels in it.

His three, funnily enough, are the wildest. Monggu, Jjanggu, Jjangah twisting around each other and his legs, tongues out for the bits of treats he has in his hands, rowdy and so, so lovable. He loves them so much.

He sits down on the ground, dinner time coming soon, and he’s excited himself, knows it’s Chanyeol’s turn tonight, and he makes the  _ best  _ chicken, should open up his own place on the side, aside from his producing gig, and he starts setting up the food for all of the pets while waiting. 

Meokmul and Huchu, quiet and docile but really deadly when no one is looking, like Kyungsoo, stealing from the bowls of the other dogs. Toben licks at his hands when he tries to dress him up in the Christmas sweater Chanyeol had bought for him, and Byul, so much like Junmyeon, keeps order, still playful, dutifully staying in her lane and eating from her own bowl.

Yixing’s Cat stares at his outstretched hand of food for a moment, before turning away, tail high up and swaying, and Mongryong attempts to get the treat himself, the corgi a lot like Baekhyun, energy and so cuddly, Jongin can’t help but give it to him. 

It’s when he’s trying to get Tan to play with one of the many toys he had bought for him, a cat plushie that rolled around and laughed, all attempts to get him to even  _ try  _ to be interested failing, when someone sits behind him, caging him in with legs on either side of his and arms encircling around his waist, hands touching the skin beneath the top.

He jumps, but is instantly calmed when Minseok’s voice says gently into his ear, “Sorry, baby. Just wanted to hold you, you look so  _ cute,  _ playing with all of them. What a dream boy.”

He blushes, and Tan stares up, judging him. “‘M not.”

Minseok tsks at him, holds him tighter. “Baby, don’t look down on yourself, please.”

“It makes me feel silly,” he admits, and Minseok kisses his jaw, fingers gliding smoothly across his belly as he embraces him a little closer. 

“It’s praise you deserve. Will tell you everyday,” Minseok says, kissing him still. Jongin closes his eyes, and it’s a work in progress, accepting the good things and trying to believe it all. Today, he lets it in a little more, melts into Minseok’s embrace and leaning back, and Minseok seems only too happy to keep on holding him, humming a little as he draws him nearer to his warmth. 

“Ah. Seeing you on pet duty. It always makes me feel so warm,” Minseok tells him, reaching to scratch Tan behind the ears. The cat only barely responds, before lying down on the ground and coolly observing them. “You really love all of them.”

“They’re all my babies,” he admits, cheeks pinking up. He looks down at Tan, who’s paying more attention to his paws and licking quietly, than he is to Jongin and the toy. “Ah. He doesn’t like it.”

“Hmm, it can’t be helped,” Minseok says, reaching out to touch the tip of Tan’s ear to little response. “He doesn’t like anything I buy him, either. Spoiled thing.”

“Like us?” Jongin asks, looking back. Minseok gives him a soft smile, a shake of his head. 

“No, darling. Not at all like any of you. You know how to show gratitude,” Minseok tells him, but he’s pulling on the hem of the sweater slightly, eyes glinting, and Jongin knows he recognizes it. “But, well. You  _ are  _ spoiled little things, aren’t you?”

“Because you love spoiling us so much,” he says, but it’s really useless, because they  _ are  _ spoiled, a house of sugar babies, but Minseok just looks even more pleased, smirking.

“I  _ do,”  _ he says, and he’s turning Jongin’s head slightly, just enough to plant his lips over his, kissing him deeply.

Jongin hums a little, melting under his touch and yielding easily, reaching up to touch Minseok’s jaw, opening his mouth for him to lick into. 

“Naughty. All of you are naughty,” Minseok murmurs against his mouth, sliding his hand fully under the sweater, and Jongin shivers a little under his touch, his hand so warm against his skin, and he didn’t realize just how cold he was in the cropped sweater until Minseok gently slid his palm against his belly. “But, this on you. I am enamored.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Jongin says, half serious, but saying it mostly to see the fond, affectionate look on Minseok’s face, and for the kiss he receives in turn, steaming and silky against his lips, making him sigh and melt further.

“Ah, baby boy, I love you,” Minseok says, pulling him in even closer, and Jongin curls into him, wants him so much. “Even if you’re begging to catch something when you wear  _ this  _ when it’s winter.”

“You know what he’s begging for,” Sehun comes in then, new toy for Vivi in hand, and effectively ruining the moment. Jongin wants to kick him.

“Don’t be crude, Hunnie,” Minseok says coolly, kissing Jongin again, uncaring of being watched. Jongin loves him so much. “Hmm. Do you think Monggu, Jjanggu and Jjangah can sleep in your room tonight, Sehun?”

“Answer’s yes if it’s to fuck Nini,” Sehun says, much too casually, almost a threat. Jongin chokes.

“Of course it is,” Minseok says, and his eyes are piercing, and Jongin tries not to whimper.

“Is it because of the top?” he asks shyly, and Minseok chuckles a little.

“It’s mostly because of you, baby,” he answers. 

“Then. Why not now?” 

“Because Chanyeol is cooking tonight, and you probably asked for chicken, and I know you hate missing that,” he says, knowing him so well, and he doesn’t care if Sehun is still in the room. Kisses him, mouth opening for him and pressing their tongues together.

Minseok more or less carries him to his room after eating, depositing him on his bed, and Jongin makes to strip, but just as he’s about to pull the sweater over his head, Minseok stops him. 

“Keep it on,” he says, voice like silk, and Jongin trembles a little, waiting, helplessly excited. He’s not stopped from removing his bottoms, however, and he’s naked from the waist down soon enough, and Minseok takes him in, kneeling above him, and Jongin watches with rapt eyes as he removes his own clothing, piece by piece, snail pace, utterly gorgeous.

Minseok is naked in front of him, above him, and though he’s more clothed, Jongin feels more vulnerable, feels as if he’s at his mercy. Shivers when Minseok touches his knees, then glides them down his thighs, lowering his body down to his. 

“How are you feeling, Nini?” he asks, voice low, a hand moving back down, and touching his cock, slowly stroking, thumbing the head. Jongin’s chest shudders, and his heart races, feeling so  _ soft  _ and turned on. “Please use your words. I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Good. Really good,” he says, moaning when Minseok fists both their cocks in his hand, slowly stroking them together. 

“Hmm. I’ll make you feel even better,” Minseok says, and Jongin doesn’t doubt him for a second. He bites his lips when Minseok lowers himself, down to his belly, and starts pressing kisses to his skin, just peeking out beneath the sweater he still has on. His lips are soft, wet, and tongue hot as he traces the lines of his stomach, and Jongin struggles to breathe. Minseok treats his body well, kissing and mouthing his skin, his muscles, and it feels good, so  _ good.  _ But it’s too far from where he wants his mouth to be, and after mere minutes, Jongin is whimpering, trying to push at his shoulders, get him even lower.

Minseok looks up, smirks, but licks the tip of his cock where he’s leaking slightly, right down his length, up to the base, and Jongin whines, curling into him. 

“Minseok. Minnie, Please.”

“Hmm, alright, baby,” he says, teasing, but his lips don’t tease when he takes Jongin’s cock in, inching down until all of him is in the warm heat of his mouth, right down to the base.

Jongin chokes on a breath, feels like he’s swallowed his tongue, and he moans, loudly, arching his back and shoulders digging into the pillows, and Minseok doesn’t do this often, but when he sucks cock, he is  _ the best _ at it, moving his head and easily taking his cock in, mouth wet and warm and Jongin cries into the still air of the room, eyes shut as he revels in the sensations of his length being engulfed.

Minseok blows him for several moments, sucking his cock and touching his belly reverently, and Jongin trembles under his touch, under his tongue, already overwhelmed, though truthfully, it never took much, to get overwhelmed with Minseok. In the best ways. 

A spit-slick finger is tracing his hole suddenly and Jongin feels like his his  _ soul  _ shakes from how much he wants it. Wants Minseok, wants him inside, wants him to split him in two and give him everything he wants to give him. 

“Minnie. Please,” he cries a little, body moving but not receiving what it really wants. “Daddy, please. Want your cock.”

“Alright, darling,” Minseok acquiesces, sucking the tip and pushing his finger inside, slowly, but once he goes in, he doesn’t stop, pushing in until he’s knuckle deep and making Jongin lose his mind. 

He moans, breath leaving his lips in small gasps as he’s stretched open with Minseok’s perfect fingers, carefully slicked with lube to make it more comfortable for him, slowly and surely, rubbing against his walls and taking good care of him. Minseok’s mouth is so warm and wet around his cock, too, sucking him carefully as he gets him ready for his cock, and he knows just how to touch him. Knows just how to get him begging, panting for him, how to make him moan and clench around him, and he’s gentle but his touch is searing, so hot and Jongin is so hard, cock warmed by Minseok’s mouth and his ass winking around Minseok’s three fingers.

“Daddy, daddy, please,” he’s babbling, shoving into Minseok’s mouth and his legs shaking, and he’s already overwhelmed. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold himself in, stop himself from coming. 

Minseok hums, moving up with a final kiss to the tip, tongue sucking up the pearl of precome on the slit and Jongin is so weak for him. Whimpers when Minseok kisses him, shares his taste between them, and a wrinkle of a condom wrapper and a few tugs down later, Minseok is pushing his cock into him, filling him up until Jongin is moaning loudly, until there’s no more of him to take in, until he can feel his balls on his ass, and he’s sank in, hole full and Minseok kissing him deeply.

“Oh, god, oh  _ fuck,”  _ Jongin cries against Minseok’s lips, ass so full, and he’s spreading his legs automatically, wants Minseok even deeper, wants to be wrecked and fucked into. “Daddy, daddy  _ please.” _

“Yes, baby,” Minseok says, and he doesn’t wait anymore. He kneels up on the mattress, and brings up Jongin’s hips, and it’s barely enough of a warning before he starts pounding into him, cock sinking into his ass in a pace that makes Jongin’s brain melt, makes him gasp.

His shoulders stay planted on the bed, but his ass is up in the air, his hips held tightly by Minseok’s unfaltering grip as he hammers into his body, his cock driving into his hole and he’s so thick, and Jongin feels his body being split in two, right where his length enters him and he feels if he were to touch his belly, he’d feel him, giving him his cock, making him take everything. It’s a delicious, filthy thought. 

“How are you feeling, baby boy?” Minseok asks him, his voice low, hands hot. He rams into him, body stable and Jongin watches the sweat slowly drip down his body, running down the paths of his muscles, making him glisten and look like the perfect sex god he is. His mouth waters when Minseok stares at him, eyes sharp, mouth slightly open and breath leaving him in short puffs as he slams his cock into him, their skin slapping together and even louder than Jongin’s own moaning. 

“Good, so good,” he answers, body shaking on its own as Minseok impales him with his length, a strong presence, whining slightly when Minseok adjusts, spreads his legs even wider, crying out when he goes  _ even harder,  _ faster, the slick noise of his cock reaming his ass out so disgustingly hot. “Oh god!  _ Oh fuck, daddy, oh fuck-” _

“Such a tight fucking ass, Nini, my baby boy,” Minseok says, the words pouring out of his mouth so easily, just how Jongin had hoped they would. “Squeezing around me so  _ beautifully.  _ You love me fucking you, don’t you?”

“Yes,  _ yes,”  _ he says, biting his lips so hard he feels they might tear, a little.

“Hmm, love me taking your ass, filling you up?” Minseok just goes on, pistoning his hips, and Jongin stares as he enters him, giving him everything right where their bodies meet and join beautifully. “Love my cock?”

“Love it,” he says, instantly. “Love your thick cock, love it splitting me open,  _ fuck.” _

Once, he would have been so thoroughly embarrassed to say those words. Even to think them, the mere idea making him blush and it had been a long, long way since then. 

Now, the words come so easily, with Minseok. Minseok, who listens and gives him everything he wants, pounding into his hole and his cock so achingly perfect as it fucks him to oblivion. 

He had almost forgotten the sweater he was still wearing, but he remembers, moaning so loudly he was sure Baekhyun, who was in the room next to his, heard, clearly, the way Minseok was fucking him and making him feel so good as he slid a hand down his torso, under the sweater, pinching his nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

“Oh my god,  _ shit, shit,”  _ he cries, body giving up and he slumps back down to the bed, and Minseok follows, setting him down fully and moving his hands up, touching his chest feverishly. 

“Tired, darling?” Minseok asks, and he’s  _ not,  _ but. He’s overwhelmed, stupidly, and his muscles are loose, bones like butter, and Minseok understands. “Get on top of me.”

“How,” he starts, but Minseok guides him wordlessly before he can finish, moving them around carefully until he’s on the bed, and Jongin is on top of him, his back on Minseok’s chest and his jaw is being moved, guided so that their mouths meet, Minseok licking across his plump lips and tasting him slowly. 

Jongin is so fucked, still hard and in need to come, but he feels so fucking relaxed, like all he needs to do is take it. He whimpers when Minseok inserts a few fingers back into his hole, loose and a little sloppy from his hammering pace a short few moments ago, and he hums in satisfaction.

“I’m going to fuck you this way, is that alright, Nini?” he asks, and he nods immediately, shakes with it. 

“I, I don’t think I’ll last very long,” he admits, and Minseok kisses his neck, his jaw comfortingly, and it’s a balm.

“It’s okay. If you need to come, you come. Don’t stop yourself from feeling good,” Minseok says, encourages him, and Jongin loves him so much. Loves him even more when he guides his cock inside, where he’s stretched wide open for him, waiting, and plunges in, thick and fitting right into him snugly. Jongin’s chest shudders.

He holds Jongin around the waist with his arms, grip firm, and he starts a vicious,  _ gorgeous  _ pace that is rough and hard and makes their bed creak with the force of their fucking. Minseok rams into him from below, his dick driving into him so loudly as their skin smacks together, and Jongin would fly out of his hold had he not been embracing him so tightly. He can almost  _ see  _ the bruises on his ass, sure to form after this, and it’s all  _ so good,  _ all incredible.

“Take it,  _ take it, baby,”  _ Minseok says, and it’s instant. Jongin comes, whining and moaning as his cock, largely ignored by them both, spills suddenly, untouched, shooting up his torso, over the black sweater, and Jongin looks down, just so to see the black fabric flecked with pearls of white, and it’s disgusting and perfect. 

“Keep, keep fucking me, until you come,” he says, begs, when he feels Minseok about to pull out. Clenches around him, keeps him inside. “I’m sure, please,” he says, before Minseok can ask, when he stills beneath him. “Daddy, please,  _ fuck me.” _

_ “Oh, baby boy,”  _ Minseok breathes, low, and he takes the permission and  _ fucks  _ Jongin. Digs his feels into the bed harder and bends his knees slightly, drives his cock into him, slamming into his hole, using his fucked out body, and Jongin moans, legs like jelly, spread out for Minseok as he dicks him down, so well.

“That’s it, daddy. Keep going,” he says, voice soft in the midst of being fucked, moving his head so he can kiss Minseok’s jaw. “More, more, more, more-”

“Nini,  _ fuck, fuck,”  _ Minseok holds his body tight, keeping him down and grinding into his ass, cock pulsing inside him, coming into the condom. 

Jongin hums as he comes down, moving his body slightly, kissing Minseok silently in gratitude, love. Opens his eyes slowly, and pauses when he looks at the time displayed on the clock on the table.

“That felt shorter than it was,” he pouts slightly, wanting more already. Minseok looks at the time as well, and laughs when he realizes they’d been actually fucking for  _ hours.  _

“It certainly felt very quick,” he says, adjusting their bodies, so they were facing each other. Jongin is blushing fully now, knows there’s come on the sweater and bruises on his hips from where Minseok had been gripping him tightly, and he feels  _ dirty,  _ the words he’d uttered and the begs and pleads he’d made ringing in his head, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of, he knows. It’s just, a little embarrassing. 

“Baby? Nini? Look at me?”

He does, though slowly. Minseok is so fond, eyes soft and tender. Jongin feels instantly better.

“I love you,” he says, touching him, trying to keep him close.

“I love you,” Jongin says in turn, and he wiggles in closer, tangling legs together, and Minseok indulges him, holds him with so much love. “Sorry about the sweater.”

“Hmm? Oh,” Minseok realizes, looking at it, and the smile on his face when he sees it dotted with wetness. He’s filthy. Jongin’s chest shakes with how hot he is. “I think it looks better this way, don’t you?”

“Minnie! You’re gross!” he says, blushing deeply, and Minseok laughs, holding him. “I’ll wash it for you, tomorrow.”

“But you should keep it, regardless,” he says. Jongin tries to stay still when Minseok comes closer, brushes their lips together. “You look so good in it. Hmm, look good in everything.”

He starts touching his belly again, slow stroke of his fingers against his skin, and Jongin closes his eyes, easily lulled by his touch, and Minseok promises him, wordlessly, an endless cycle of body worship and kisses and cock. It sounds like a dream.

.

.


	2. underwear, collar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> had to split it, it was too long lol

Junmyeon is perpetually frustrated, with this clothing kink Minseok seems to have.

Ever since Chanyeol had worn the jacket, the others have been attempting to find a way to get something from Minseok’s wardrobe, and so far, with Jongin coming down that morning for breakfast, wincing as he went down the stairs in steps much too gingerly for someone who moved so smoothly usually, Junmyeon knows most of them had succeeded.

Six of them have complained to him, needing something for their sore bottoms, and he sighs. Partly because Minseok should be more careful, partly because they shouldn’t be so eager to have sex limps and beg Minseok to give it to them so hard.

Also, partly. Because _he_ was getting sexually frustrated too, wanting Minseok to fuck him wildly. Sex limp not necessary, really, but when he looked at Jongin instinctively when he had groaned, seeing him palm in his covered ass, gently, prod a little right where his hole would be, and he had imagined how _stretched_ he must have been from Minseok’s cock, he can’t quite deny that it’s not all too discouraging.

But. He feels like he shouldn’t resort to stealing his clothes. Knows Minseok would gladly have sex with him, any of them, really, if they just asked him simply. None of this wearing his clothing to lure him into sleeping with them, and Junmyeon really, seriously, _honestly_ thinks about it. Thinks about the right time and the right place, when he knows here both free, when he doesn’t have to go to the gallery and when Minseok isn’t busy, for _either_ of his jobs, and he makes plans and everything.

He didn’t plan, however, for late one night, really actually a very early morning, right when he’s in his en-suite bathroom, washing his face of the grime of the very long work event party that took much too long, for Minseok to come in, unannounced, checking in on him. Didn’t plan for him to see him almost naked, clad in just his underwear. _His_ underwear, one of Minseok’s favorite pairs, a stupidly fancy design for boxer briefs in all black, glitter in the lettering on the waistband, a front panel of faux snake skin.

He freezes, right in front of his sink, staring at Minseok, who stares right back. Then looks down, pointedly staring at what he’s left wearing, obviously recognizing it.

“I can explain,” Junmyeon says instantly. Minseok raises his eyebrow.

“That’s my underwear,” he says plainly.

“I know it is, but I can explain,” Junmyeon says still, feeling a little foolish, Minseok fully clothed in front of him and him, decidedly not, his face still dripping wet from washing it. “I was running late, and Sehun is on laundry duty, and didn’t put my clothes back in time or misplaced it. And yours were the nearest pair.”

“So naturally, you borrowed it,” Minseok says. Junmyeon blinks, and. His face pinks, realizing how weak it must sound. Must be kind of stupid.

“It’s not anything sexual. It was necessity,” he says. He’s digging a deeper hole for himself, and decides to shut up a little too late, but Minseok hides his amusement well.

“So you’re not trying to get me to have sex with you?”

“Yes,” he says too quickly, and Minseok, little shit, laughs a little, smirking.

“Shame,” he says, and Junmyeon’s brain leaves him for a moment.

‘Wait, I mean, yes!” he says, and things aren’t going very right. He backtracks, saying, “I mean, I _was_ planning to ask you, to fuck me. I just, I wore this today, by. By accident.”

He makes himself stop talking, and his whole body is red, so, _so stupid._ Minseok will never let him live this down.

“Hmm. So it’s not to have sex with me,” Minseok says, concluding cleanly. Junmyeon gulps.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hmm, okay,” Minseok says, much too casually, for someone who’s walking into the bathroom properly, crowding Junmyeon to the sink and caging him in. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Minseok smirks at him, and Junmyeon stares at his face, his wing-tipped eyes with black glitter, and Junmyeon is only so strong. “Here I thought you were being the naughtiest out of everyone. Wearing my _underwear,_ the boldest move.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” he says, but he suddenly wishes it was.

“Okay,” Minseok says, acquiescing easily. His smile is indulgent, and Junmyeon feels his heart right up in his throat. “So. Do you still plan on waiting to ask me to fuck you? Because I’m very okay with doing that now.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” Junmyeon scoffs, and Minseok just smiles serenely for all his trouble, and holds his waist, pulls him in to kiss him.

Really, he had no plans to have sex tonight, and he’s tired from being on his feet the whole night and mingling with guests at the new exhibit for the gallery, but Minseok’s mouth is so soft, warm and sweet under his tongue, and his hold is strong, and Junmyeon, despite all the teasing and ribbing he and Minseok do, is so deeply in love with him. It’s really inevitable that he melts under his lips, opens his mouth for him, lets him lick in and he curls around him, breathing him in.

“Such a little tease, wearing _this,_ out of everything,” Minseok says, bringing his hands down, squeezing Junmyeon’s ass under his underwear. Junmyeon chokes on a breath, pushing his ass back, and despite the cold, Minseok’s hands are warm, perfect on his cheeks. “You’re the most shameless of them all, walking around in _this.”_

“It wasn’t, _fuck,_ it wasn’t on purpose, oh fuck,” Junmyeon breathes, biting his lips as Minseok rolls his hips forward, and their clothed dicks grind against each other, and he shouldn’t get so hard so quickly, really. “Fuck, Min.”

“You look _exquisite,”_ Minseok says easily, and his smile goes soft, and Junmyeon loves him every way. Sex deity, intimidating, strong, quiet, genius, but he thinks he might love soft Minseok the most. It’s not rare, but it’s still something he commits to memory, each time. “Piece of art, yourself. More beautiful than anything you work with.”

“Stop,” Junmyeon blushes, kisses him, shoves his tongue into Minseok’s mouth. He feels him chuckle, but he clings harder, and he pushes at him to remove his leather jacket, and Minseok moves readily, and they take off his clothing together. Junmyeon’s fingers slide across Minseok’s chest beneath the open buttons of his black button-down, and are steady but rushed as he unbuttons them later, slipping sometimes.

“Hmm, it’s okay, love, I’m all yours tonight,” Minseok tells him, sensing his urgency, and it’s sweet, but now that they’re here, now that the intent to fuck is clear, Junmyeon wants to get _fucked,_ nailed so hard that he has a sex limp of his own, and his ears turn red when he realizes just how little he differs from their other soulmates in the mansion. All wanting Minseok’s cock and wanting to get wrecked, but when he gets Minseok naked, slowly, surely, and his eyes rove over his compact, well defined body, muscled and powerful, he thinks it’s an inevitability, to think of Minseok this way at one point. And, he certainly doesn’t seem to deny it, when he gets his cock out from his pants, smirking at Junmyeon and licking across his lip, and pulling Junmyeon’s length out from his underwear as well.

“Hmm, pretty, pretty bunny,” Minseok says sweetly, and he strokes their lengths together, and Junmyeon bucks into his hand, gasping, clutching on to his shoulders. He glares when he hears Minseok’s soft chuckle, and Minseok apologizes silently with the softest, most tender kiss to his cheek, lips lingering on his skin as he jerks them off, murmuring _gorgeous_ words in his ear. Junmyeon bites his lips, closing his eyes for a moment at the sensation of his cock, hardening next to Minseok’s, skin sliding together, dry and it’s a little uncomfortable, but Minseok licks his hand, right under his renewed gaze, and it’s better almost instantly, and Junmyeon is so stupidly in love with him. Would give the world up for him, but he doesn’t say it out loud, doesn’t want to feed his ego more, lets him know instead with the way he moans as their cocks grind together, hard, hot and he aches already with the want to have it inside him.

“Fuck, take it off,” Junmyeon grits out, pushing down the underwear down his thighs more, and Minseok pushes it down to his ankles, and he steps out, hitching his leg up to Minseok’s waist, rolling his hips and frotting.

“Oh, baby,” Minseok breathes, head tilting back slightly, mouth dropping, and Junmyeon drinks him up, wants to devour him, be devoured. Reaches out and pushes Minseok's remaining clothing off, and they’re both naked in his bathroom, lights low nearing three in the morning, and all thoughts of taking a warm dip in the bathtub and sleep are gone, replaced by the need to sit on Minseok’s cock and fill himself up. “Want to fuck you.”

“Obviously,” Junmyeon says, earning himself a light pinch on his ass. He just rolls his hips harder, smearing his precome over Minseok’s length, letting him know just how much he wants him.

Minseok wordlessly reaches out to the shelf beside the sink, behind the bottles of vitamins and beauty pills, taking out the lube and condoms he _knows_ Junmyeon keeps hidden, a testament to how well they know each other and how long they’ve been together, and he moves his mouth to Junmyeon’s neck, nipping and sucking a mark on his throat.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, legs spread and watching Minseok spread slick over his fingers, eyes dangerous as his gaze doesn’t break from Junmyeon’s. A dangerous man, in many ways, and Junmyeon is right under his spell.

His mouth drops open helplessly in a moan when Minseok pushes a finger into his hole, and he’s clenching around him already, pleasure almost immeasurable _this soon,_ and he tries to keep his noises in.

Minseok sees, and pouts slightly, looking too _cute_ for having his finger up Junmyeon’s ass, and he says, “Don’t do that. I want to hear you.”

“You, _fuck,_ you have a thing for dirty talk and moaning?” he bites out, doing just that when Minseok starts thrusting his finger, in and out, curling inside and brushing against where he’s most sensitive.

“I just have a thing for _you. All of you,”_ he says, licking up Junmyeon’s throat and inserting another finger inside, faster, rougher. Junmyeon’s legs are already shaking, and he tries to get a hold of himself, but Minseok stretching him open for his cock, fingers plunging in and out of his hole, makes his chest tight, belly hot. Too soon, too soon. “But, admittedly, you looking particularly debauched like this is really very stimulating.”  
“Shut your mouth,” he breathes, and Minseok _chuckles,_ the asshole, before he shoves in with three, and Junmyeon moans, can’t help but let his legs splay open, held up by the sink behind him and Minseok holding up his hips with his free hand, and his gaze never leaves him. There’s a promise of _ruin_ in his eyes, and Junmyeon feels the ache in his own cock, wanting it so much.

“Hmm, my gorgeous, gorgeous boy,” he says, and Junmyeon kisses him, takes the words from his lips and wants to swallow them, and Minseok seems to be very willing to do so. “How do you want to do this?”

“I, I don’t know,” Junmyeon says, almost whining, reaching and touching Minseok’s cock and rolling the condom down on him himself, making Minseok bite in a breath. It’s satisfying to watch, feel his hard cock in his hands as he strokes him, mouth watering at the thought of having him inside him, buried in his body. “You choose. Just fuck me.”

Minseok breathes for a moment, then moves forward slightly. Pushes him right up to the counter, and guides his legs even more open.

The head of his cock traces his rim, and Junmyeon holds his breath. Lets it out, slowly, when he begins to sink in, breaching his stretched hole, cock so _thick_ and rubbing his walls and making him so, so _full,_ and Junmyeon feels like he’s being split in two, Minseok’s cock fitting inside him so well.

“Oh, bunny,” Minseok breathes, groaning, and he’s cupping Junmyeon’s face in his hands, and slanting his mouth over his, tongue licking in and Junmyeon can taste his want, desperation. It’s _delicious._ “What a tight, gorgeous ass. Made to take me.”

“Make me _take it,_ then, you shit,” Junmyeon bites, but he feels maybe even more overwhelmed than Minseok does, ass so stretched wide and his cock _perfect,_ thick, and he almost can’t breathe.

Minseok gives it to him, pulling out, and plunging back in, driving his length in and they hear it everywhere, the slap of their skin so _loud_ as it bounces off the tiles of the bathroom, and Junmyeon moans as he’s pounded, so fucking full, and Minseok is so pretty, sweating but looking so composed as he fucks him, eyeliner and makeup still perfect and lips swollen with Junmyeon’s kissing and nipping, and he’s glistening, a sex god.

He goes harder, hands moving down to Junmyeon’s ass and pulling him towards him, slamming his ass to his driving cock and Junmyeon gasps, moans as his own cock bounces between them, and they’ve barely started, but he’s already very gone.

Suddenly, Minseok’s grip tightens on his body, and he’s yelping when they’re moving, Minseok bringing them over to the side where he sets down on the closed toilet seat, bringing Junmyeon down to sit on his cock like a throne, never once pulling out. His grace and poise make him even harder, smearing between their bellies, and Junmyeon swallows down his tongue, feeling his ass clench out of his control with his pleasure.

“Ride me, Myeon,” Minseok says, grip loosening on his waist, his lips finding a home on Junmyeon’s jaw as he trails kisses down the line of it, and Junmyeon’s chest tightens, shakes with how much he loves him.

His hole twitches slightly around Minseok’s cock, adjusting to this position, ass cushioned on Minseok’s strong thighs, and he’s patient, waiting for him. Then, he’s not, letting his want show through the way he reaches down and grabs Junmyeon’s asscheeks, palms fitting around the globes and _rolling,_ moving the flesh around.

“Oh, _fuck,”_ he breathes, thighs trembling, and he stretches his legs further apart, and he arches into Minseok, head tilted back and he’s staring at the ceiling, so full up on cock.

He gives in, giving Minseok what he wants and riding him, really _riding_ and making sure it’s the best fuck of his life. Rolls his hips, figure eights and circles, and it gets faster, tougher, until he’s full on bouncing on Minseok’s cock, burying him into his hole with a pace that makes his eyes sting and mouth water, loud wet noises that squelch and slap as he takes and fucks himself, moaning endlessly and the walls of the bathroom echoing it back to him. He’s so hot, sweating, and he’s so hard, leaking at the slit and his ass is _so full,_ body so fucked and stretched and split. He feels perfect.

“Gorgeous, fucking gorgeous,” Minseok praises him, and he rolls his ass in his hands rougher, stretching the cheeks apart so Junmyeon feels it more, when he drops his body down and _shoves_ his cock inside his hole. The stretch is unbelievable, and he’s shaking with it all. “Not going to call me ‘daddy?’”

“Fuck you,” Junmyeon breathes, preoccupied with fucking himself silly with his cock, and Minseok smirks again, knows it’s on Junmyeon’s mind anyway. He plants his feet on the ground, and _rams in_ from below, and Junmyeon almost jolts off of his cock, if not for the way Minseok is holding him tight, keeping him grounded on his length.

“Baby, oh. Junmyeon, _fuck,”_ Minseok says, sighing, leaning back on the toilet and watching him. Junmyeon gives him a show because he can, rolling his hips, making sure his abs flex and move and glisten, and bouncing, moving on his cock and eventually, teasing himself.

“Oh, _Min,_ so fucking thick. Tearing me in two,” he says, gliding a hand down his chest, down his stomach, Minseok’s eyes following darkly. Watches as he strokes his length, using the precome at the tip to make the slide easier, and Junmyeon makes it look so good, thumbing the head, tracing the vein. Bringing his hand up, licking it slowly to taste himself, and Minseok doesn’t make a sound, just watching him with a piercing, vicious gaze that makes him sweat with want.

He touches himself again, rocking back and forth on Minseok’s cock, cock moving inside him gently, but ever present, so wide and he feels it up his spine, knows he will for days. Touches his cock, and adjusts slightly, and he _moans_ loudly, loud enough that he knows someone in the next room could very well wake up, and the thought makes him even louder as he reaches for his balls. Pets them, rolls them, and gasping as he’s fucked into again, a single, shattering thrust from below that makes him tremble from head to toe.

He lurches forward, the force of it resulting in a slap of their skin too loud to bear, and his ass clenching hard around Minseok’s cock, and he breathes deeply, panting right against the scars on Minseok’s shoulder, Minseok petting his ass and holding him close.

“So hot, so tight around me,” Minseok murmurs, and Junmyeon can barely catch his breath before there’s a finger, tracing the rim, right where he’s stretched so wide around Minseok’ girth, and he moans, feeling it deep in his chest.

Minseok doesn’t push in completely, but the tease of his fingers, prodding in slightly where he’s being split in two, dipping in and just _feeling_ up where their bodies meet makes Junmyeon lose his head a bit.

“Fuck, _fuck, fuck, fuck,”_ he mutters, endlessly, saying the words against Minseok’s neck over and over until he’s sure it sinks into his skin, like it’s tattooed on him, almost. It’s a nice thought, spurs him on to roll down harder, fuck himself deeper, ass meeting Minseok’s thighs on every drop down as he takes him in, shivering around the finger still tracing his rim, stretched wide around his cock.

“Feel so good, look so good, bunny,” Minseok praises sweetly, and Junmyeon feels it deep in his chest. Kisses him again, and again, never wanting to part.

“I love you, _fuck,_ I love you, Min,” Junmyeon says, wanting to melt into him, and Minseok squeezes his ass in his hands harder, slaps his cheeks lightly, making him jolt and tighten on his dick. He loves him a lot, too much.

“I love you, Myeon,” he says in turn, and his eyes are so _pretty,_ and he’s so beautiful, really the love of his life. Junmyeon wouldn’t know what to do without him in his life, really. If he didn’t follow his heart and given Minseok a chance, he wouldn’t be here, happy, constantly satisfied, and successful, loved, and in love, with so many beautiful, soulful men.

Minseok claps his hands on his ass again, the slightest bit harder, and Junmyeon gasps, moans long and loud and echoing against the tiles back at him, his own filthy noises of pleasure bouncing back and letting him know just how well fucked he is. Then, the grip on his bottom tightens, and he yelps in a less than dignified manner when Minseok lifts him up, easily, and carries them over to the wall opposite from where they’d been fucking, and Junmyeon’s back is pressing against the expensive tiles of the wall, legs wrapped around Minseok’s waist and ass in the air, and he holds on to Minseok as he’s pounded into, Minseok’s cock driving into him and holding him up.

He’s searingly attractive, and Junmyeon can see, just over Minseok’s shoulder, their reflection on the mirror. He can’t see much of himself apart from his legs, linked around Minseok’s hips and his arms, over his shoulders, but he sees so much of Minseok. Of his back, strong and defined and pink marks from Junmyeon’s nails from where they dig into his skin, in half-moons or dragged out lines, his ass, clenching each time he rams forward into Junmyeon’s hole, delicious and tight.

They’re beautiful. Disgusting, and it’s the best.

“Baby, oh, _Min,_ fuck,” Junmyeon sighs, moans and trying to hold on to something, find purchase _anywhere,_ and it’s the most he can do to keep holding on to Minseok, take everything he’s giving him. He’s in so deep, cock so good and thick and just a little more. “I’m going to come, I’m going to come, _fuck, fuck, fuck-”_

 _“Yes, yes, my love,”_ Minseok breathes, goes harder, burying his cock right into his ass with powerful thrusts, one after the other, and Junmyeon almost swallows his tongue when his fingers curl around his length, hard and bouncing between them, stroking in time with his hammering pace.

He can’t get a word out, suddenly silent when he opens his mouth in a silent stream when the heat in his belly snaps, and he comes, comes for a long time and hard, white shooting out of the slit and spilling between them, and he feels wrung out, thoroughly fucked, every part of his body trembling and he feels like he has no bones and his nerve endings are going haywire. He feels great, shaking slightly but it’s good, Minseok’s cock, still so hard inside him and shallowly thrusting as he comes down, still feels _so good,_ and he hums, ass fluttering around his length.

“Oh, bunny, fuck,” Minseok moans, looking down where his cock is splitting Junmyeon open still, his hole stretched wide his girth. Junmyeon knows he’s close, wants him to come too.

“Come in me, Min,” he says, eyes fluttering shut as he adjusts around his length, sensitive but not yet unpleasant, really _so nice_ inside him, and he tries to ground down on him from his position, but it proves to be difficult. So, he says instead, “Come. Fuck me, make me feel it. I’ll be disappointed if I don’t have a hard time walking, too.”

Minseok laughs, giving him a look. “You’re just as spoiled as they are.”

“Well you _are_ the sugar daddy,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok smirks.

“I’m not,” he says, as he always does, but in truth, Junmyeon knows, and so do the others: he loves it. Being able to buy whatever he wants for all of them, his babies. Spoiling them with expensive things and showering them with affection and love and cock and he _loves_ it. Junmyeon loves him, whatever he is, and right now, wants him to come. So he squeezes his ass, clenches as tight as he can and _moans,_ as loud as he can, so loud he’s sure he’s waking up _someone (everyone)_ in the house, and Minseok eventually moans along with him, face dropping the smug look and he breaks.

He _fucks_ into Junmyeon, hammering in so hard Junmyeon hysterically thinks they must be cracking the tiles behind him with the force of it, snapping forward and slapping their skin together, his fingers scratching against the small circles that were once holes on Minseok’s shoulders, digging in so hard he thinks he’s giving him more scars.

It’s so much and it’s perfect, and Junmyeon melts, just letting himself be _fucked_ for all it’s worth and taking it, and he clenches again, hard, arching his back and making sure Minseok can _hear_ him, leaning forward to mutter in his ear.

_“Come, daddy.”_

“Fuck, _bunny,”_ Minseok moans, throwing his head back and driving _in,_ staying there, grinding as he spills into the condom, so long, endlessly.

Minute thrusts as he wrings it out, pushing deeper into Junmyeon’s ass, and they’re both shaking, overwhelmed, thoroughly sexed our and suddenly _tired._ Junmyeon feels it viscerally, when Minseok pulls out slow and tries to help him stand on his feet, only for his jelly legs to fail and his knees wobble, but Minseok holds him close instantly, keeping him standing, somehow.

It’s sexy, so sexy, then he realizes he still needs a bath from the grime of the day, maybe even more so now, with so much come on his belly and lube and spit dripping down his thighs. He’s a little disgusting, but Minseok silently, wordlessly leans over, turns the faucet on for the tub, and picks out his favorite bath bomb from the pile beneath the sink. Junmyeon is _so_ in love.

He pulls Minseok in to bathe with him, and he goes easily, and the tub is massive, big enough that they can sit side by side comfortably, legs splayed out with room to spare, and Minseok spoils him this way. Relaxed times and giving him the room with the nicest bathroom in the mansion, finding rare, expensive bath and beauty products for him, spending a fortune on them for Junmyeon.

They sit for a while, washing each other with the scented, colored bath water, and Junmyeon eventually straddles him, sitting on his lap as he washes his neck, face, massaging his scalp.

“You know,” he starts quietly, watching Minseok open his eyes slowly, showing him he’s listening. It’s been a thought on his mind for a long while, when he’d found out Yixing had known about Minseok’s other job. Really, even before that, just something that’s been on his mind, and it’s not heavy, but. It’s present, and it’s a long time coming, and he doesn’t know if now is a good time to bring it up, but right moments aren’t really distinguishable from the others, most of the time. Post vigorous sex in the bathtub seems as good a time as any to say, “You should tell them what you really do.”

Minseok is quiet, but doesn’t refute him. His hand, gliding up Junmyeon’s back and down, patting his ass comfortingly, is a good sign. Junmyeon hopes.

“You’re brilliant,” he says, kissing him, just wanting to see more ease on his beautiful face. Minseok hums into his mouth, and Junmyeon feels him murmur, _“My bunny,”_ against his lips. It spurs him on, “Your music. It’s beautiful and deserves all the recognition and praise it deserves. But, you can’t convince all of them, that it is enough to sustain this lifestyle. With so many of them, it’s. It’s not possible, Minseok. And many of them wonder where you go off for hours at a time, everyday. They have the right to know.”

Minseok looks at him thoughtfully when he finishes, and Junmyeon didn’t know why he was so apprehensive in the first place. Things between them, they’ve always been very open with one another, and Minseok is at his least guarded with him. He’ll listen, and he’ll always be considerate to everyone.

“I’ll tell them eventually,” Minseok says. His eyes are slightly sad, the soft smile on his lips with a tone of melancholy. “I promise.”

Minseok never goes back on his promises. Junmyeon is lightened, and he presses his lips against his cheeks, so proud of him. It’s hard, and Minseok is doing this because he loves him, loves all of them.

“Do you think they’ll understand?” he asks, and there’s a tint of fear in his voice, soft, almost hidden, but Junmyeon hears it. Knows Minseok isn’t afraid of many things, but losing them, any of them. It’s something that has maybe plagued his heart, his mind. “I. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“I think they will,” Junmyeon says gently, holding him. “I mean, for a crime lord, you’re pretty nice. You’re surprisingly not very confrontational.”

“I don’t think me being nice is the point, Myeon,” he says, and he can’t quite keep the fondness out of his voice, amused at his word choice.

Junmyeon smiles at him, kisses his cheek gently. “I think it will be okay. It will be hard, but your feelings are genuine. I think things will be alright.”

“I hope so,” Minseok says wistfully, and Junmyeon hums. “You and Yixing knowing are one thing. If, if they all know, then. It will be different.”

“You love them,” Junmyeon says, “You love them so, _so much._ And they love you. You think you know but when you’re not around, oh. They miss you so, so much. Even for just the shortest bit of time apart. You don’t see it, how much they _love you._ They will stay. They’ve stayed this long.”

“And you,” Minseok says, eyes shining, smile so tender, looking up at him, “you’ve stayed with me this whole time.”

“I have,” Junmyeon says, and he’s proud, that he has. Would not have it any other way.

“I love you,” Minseok says, bringing his face down to kiss him, deeply, thoroughly, and Junmyeon clings to him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Junmyeon says, water less than warm now, but he makes no move to get them out, wash off the suds. Just says, “How is that one group, from Ilsan? They were giving you grief over some exports?”

“Ah,” Minseok says, and his smile turns mysterious, dark. “They’re taken care of.”

“You didn’t kill them, did you?” and it’s just like any other conversation. Talking about the bills, if Minseok’s been eating properly and not missing his breakfast as is his habit, if he wanted to go see a movie or have dinner out, if that one buyer didn’t pull through and Minseok and his gang would have to take care of them in less than peaceful means, or if the shipments didn’t make it in time and Minseok would have to go to see that _they_ did, or else. Just another thing to talk about while sitting and pruning in their bath water.

“Only the woods know,” Minseok replies. Junmyeon snorts.

“So you did,” he says, and Minseok gives him a rueful smile.

“Technically, I didn’t,” he says, squeezing Junmyeon’s ass beneath the water to distract him, but as nice as it feels, it doesn’t work. Junmyeon doesn’t let it. “The bomb Wu set just happened to go off and it wasn’t my doing, that they weren’t able to leave the vicinity in time.”

“How have none of them found out yet?” Junmyeon muses, making Minseok pout beneath him. “Not just any rich person has a private _forest._ Basically a mass grave.”

“How crude,” Minseok says, frowning. “Not a _mass grave,_ so impersonal. I mark them discreetly.”

“You’re not exactly giving them gravestones.”

“The _trees_ are their gravestones,” Minseok says haughtily. “I give them dignity.”

“You still kill them,” Junmyeon points out, and Minseok huffs a little.

“Yes, because they try to kill me first.”

“Well, yes,” Junmyeon concedes, suddenly getting angry and annoyed at every person who’s ever foolishly tried to take Minseok down, not knowing he was one of the most powerful men in Asia, network wide and loyal. Tried to hurt him, and he’s _boiling_ with anger, that they’d even though of taking him from him, from them. “Fuck them for trying to do that, they should know better than to mess with you.”

“Little do they know you’re many times more dangerous than I am,” Minseok teases him, and Junmyeon frowns at him, but gives in, kisses him, licks across his teeth.

“Ah. I wonder how Chanyeol will react when he finds out he was basically Sookie and got fucked in what’s more or less a graveyard.”

“No, I would never do that to him,” Minseok says, affronted, insulted, “I brought him to the untouched part of the forest. No hidden bodies there. And it’s not like I had sex with him on _dirt,_ I nailed him on the Martin. And he _loved_ it.”

“Yes, he did, god help me,” Junmyeon says, “I’m the one who had to ice pack his ass after, you shit.”

“Sounds kinky,” Minseok says, smirking, and Junmyeon throws water on his face, not taking the bait.

.

Junmyeon met Minseok when they were still rather young. University students who were somehow connected in a weird way, families into crime and drugs and money, so much money, dirty and reeking of illegal activity, and Junmyeon wasn’t ever really into it, nor very against it. It was just _there,_ something of a fact, that his father worked for some kingpin and they lived a comfortable life because of it, and it was just part of life that he never quite paid attention to.

Kingpin had a son, his dad told him, _“If you got along, it would mean good, great things for us.”_

They met during a party Minseok’s father hosted for the closest circle and the families. Junmyeon had met Minseok there, and he was a juxtaposition of many things. So youthful, but older than him by a year. An innocent face, but a smug smirk with a deadly, dark charm, when you knew when to look. Quiet, keeping to himself while the party had gone on around him, but still drawing everyone to him, eyes moving up and down his form in all black. Shy, but a confidence that was purely so _sensual,_ just the way he stood, so surely in his low heeled boots and skinny jeans and overall. He was the most interesting person Junmyeon had ever seen.

They were introduced briefly that night.

_“I’m Minseok, I’m in university, musicology.”_

_“I’m Junmyeon. Art studies with a minor in business.”_

_“Are they grooming you to take over your father’s job, get into the business?”_

_“No. They hoped that we would hit it off and, well. Security comes with the thought of pawning off your child to the heir of an empire, illegal as it is.”_

_“I’m sorry. I don’t want to take over.”_

_“But you’re going to, anyway.”_

They didn’t speak again, that night. Didn’t speak for a few years.

Junmyeon graduated. His father continued to work, until given a substantial reward for loyalty that allowed him to not have to work under the mafia anymore. His family, already doing well, was _rich_ then, and Junmyeon was given the opportunity to pursue a livelihood that he truly enjoyed.

The money let him build up a business. A gallery, modest initially, then not so modest, within a few short months. Because of _him._

One day, there was a man in the gallery, stood in front of the magnificent nine-foot tapestry and the surrounding panels, the gallery’s centerpiece. One that Junmyeon had worked _so hard_ to acquire, and quietly his favorite piece.

It had been years, but he could recognize Kim Minseok anywhere. From the very way he stood, silent confidence and an aura that was unique to him. His hair was purple, now, a striking jewel tone that drew Junmyeon’s eyes, and his eyes. Sharp, sparkling, carefully lined. He was in all black, and he wore it well, and Junmyeon made his way carefully to him, so easily drawn in.

“You have a good eye,” he said, standing next to Minseok, eyes forward on the piece.

Minseok hummed, taking in the art, and for Junmyeon, there was always something new to find with this one. A little detail that he wouldn’t have noticed before, a subtle change in the hues of colors blending into one another. Difficult to believe it was done all in thread and embroidery work.

“It’s. Compelling,” he said, considering his words slowly. He looked at Junmyeon, and despite the shimmering eyeliner and makeup, the look on his face was. Soft, gentle. Junmyeon was almost surprised. “It’s particularly intricate.”

“It took the artist almost four years to craft,” he explained, “with several helpers to complete the vision. A labor of love and passion.”

“You seem to like it.”

Junmyeon smiled. “I like all the art we have here. Every piece is special, should be celebrated.”

“Have you ever encountered a piece that you didn’t like?” Minseok asked him. Junmyeon paused.

“Well, yes,” Junmyeon answered, “But, I’d like to think that I could always find something to appreciate in everything I see, even if I didn’t necessarily like it. Art is subjective that way.”

Minseok hummed, his gaze unchanging, unmoving, and Junmyeon felt pinned, but not threatened. Rather, when Minseok looked away, he felt an urge for him to turn back to look at him, keep looking at him. It was strange.

“I see you’re doing very well,” Minseok said to him. It’s hard to read the tone of his voice, how he must have felt.

“It’s a little slow on the pickup, but I’ll get there,” Junmyeon said. “I heard you were also doing well yourself. My father, he mentioned that you’re doing music properly, now.”

“I am. It’s been good to me,” Minseok replied. Junmyeon noticed the way he stood up straighter, his eyes just the bit more quiet.

“I also heard that you’ve taken over your father,” Junmyeon said further.

Minseok just smiled, not particularly happy, or proud. Just is.

Junmyeon thought through his words carefully, and when his father had left, he had a feeling this might happen. It was easier to recruit within already made circles, people already tried and trusted through time, and Minseok would surely need a team of his own making. One to build up on and it’s just easier, to follow the lineage, but it was not in Junmyeon’s blood. He said more firmly than he had felt, “I’m sorry. I’m not interested.”

Minseok’s smile dropped slightly. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re here to. To find a business partner, to recruit me into your circle,” Junmyeon said, Minseok’s face unchanging, “I’m sorry. That, that was my father’s work, not mine. I’m not interested in becoming part of your group.”

Minseok paused, set his eyes on him, “Do you think. That that is what I’m here for?

Junmyeon couldn’t quite read the look on his face. He found himself confused. “Is it not?”

Minseok didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Junmyeon had felt he had said something wrong, but all he said was, “I am here for the art.”

It was obvious enough that it wasn’t the whole truth, and Junmyeon could see that Minseok had more to say. But, he stopped there, instead bowing his head politely, saying, “I am truly sorry. I apologize for any inconvenience that I may have caused by appearing here.”

“Not an inconvenience,” Junmyeon said, and Minseok straightened up, His face was even more unreadable, and Junmyeon could not understand why it made him feel uneasy. Unhappy.

“Regardless,” Minseok said. “I. I must confess, I admit I came here with the intention of seeing you. But, not in the manner or for the reasons you’re thinking. I understand you’re not interested, but thank you for entertaining me. Good day.”

He left, and Junmyeon watched as he did, thinking over the words he’d said, not understanding at first. Then, he did, and it made him blush, and he understood a little more, why his chest felt funny and his cheeks heated.

The next day, the whole tapestry series was sold. Junmyeon was shellshocked at the call, immensely pleased, confused as hell. Things picked up after then, very quickly. It’s not long before he’s being invited to events and covers of art magazines and newsletters, and acquisitions get sold as soon as they come in and it’s a buzz he doesn’t quite understand. Doesn’t understand why he’s receiving it, doesn’t understand where it coming from, why it’s happening.

More and more artists, people he’s respected and really followed since he was in high school were calling him up and offering their pieces, and it’s difficult to keep up with the success of less than a year in work. It’s a successful cycle he’s thankful for, but doesn’t understand.

He saw Minseok at an event, a private party held by a rich patron he had become friendly with after several encounters and art exchanges, but they don’t talk this time. He watched Minseok, who was mostly keeping to himself with a drink in his hand, but saw him exchange kind smiles and words with a few other guests who recognized him.

“Handsome one, isn’t he?” the aforementioned said rich patron told him, and she looked at Minseok with a soft fondness. “Very talented. Very enigmatic too. Must say the all-black confuses me, but he wears it very well.”

“Yes,” Junmyeon replied, looking at the full-length, black coat Minseok wore, over a turtleneck, even black studs in his ears, glinting in the low light. His hair, he was blonde at this point, and he suited it incredibly well. He looked so, so good. “He does suit it.”

“Took much convincing for him to come tonight,” she told him, looking very proud of herself for somehow managing to get him to come. “He doesn't go to parties much at all, really. Keeps to himself a lot, works himself to the bone, with his music.”

“Hmm,” Junmyeon hummed, knowing it’s not just his music he’s so preoccupied with, but he kept himself quiet.

“Yes, he was very busy with his new piece, a wonderful symphony,” she told him. “Been working on it for many months, it will debut very soon! I have VIP tickets, you see. He gave them to me himself.”

“Oh, how very exciting,” he said, smiling amiably, but not really knowing what it is he truly feels.

“Ah, Junmyeon, dear, have you never heard of him?”

“Oh, I know him. Our families are, well, connected,” he explained. He’s confusing himself over the words, but continued carefully, “We’re acquainted. He went to my gallery as well, just as we were beginning.”

“Oh, what a happy coincidence!” she remarked, and Junmyeon smiled for her, but didn’t quite feel it. “Have you been to any of his shows then? A very talented, in-demand freelance conductor and composer, he is.”  
“I have not, no.”

“Oh, Junmyeon! You simply must,” she said, her eyes widening. She’s literally holding on to her pearl necklace, champagne swishing about dangerously in her other hand. Junmyeon had never thought he’d find himself in a position to be surrounded by people as rich as this, telling him to go watch orchestras and flaunting their wealth. “I have an extra ticket for the upcoming debut performance of his new piece, my daughter won’t be available, you’re more than welcome to take it!”

“It’s quite alright, you should bring family to that,” he said, but she waved him off.

“Please, with the amount of art on my walls that you’ve helped me acquire, you already are,” she said, “you really _must_ hear his work, see him conduct. He is a _master.”_

Junmyeon didn’t have much heart to refuse her, but he was intrigued regardless. Minseok, if anything, was interesting, enigmatic, and while he was sure he was talented, it would be different to see the kind of work he made.

So, he had gone to the premiere of the new symphony close to a month later, up in a box seat in a suit and surrounded by pretentiously rich folk everywhere, and clapping politely when Minseok had gone out, in a subtly shimmering blazer and button up in all black. He was beautiful, smile on his face, shaking hands with his concertmaster, and fluidly moving his baton up in a ready stance. And they had began, and.

Junmyeon had never been so captivated. Minseok lead his orchestra with grace, movements precise and sharp but no less swift, smooth, juxtapositions all over again. He was quick, but gentle, and everyone was under his spell.

And the music. He had known that Minseok was very talented by word of mouth, by many of his customers and patrons telling him of his work, by the news that would highlight him often and his achievements abroad and locally, a star in the world of classical music. But his sheer talent, the kind of music he produced, it was nothing short of _genius._ Captivating and yet new, novel and gorgeous, and so, so unique. Swelling and moving and emotional, so much told through the notes and movements, so much so that his seatmates were crying next to him, though he felt as if he was not much stronger, eyes stinging, chest tight.

Junmyeon understood, now. Not everything, but many, many things.

“Minseok, oh! What a show,” she said afterwards in the afterparty, Junmyeon made to tag along a little awkwardly, hand holding a glass of champagne that he could not bring himself to drink.

Minseok smiled at her, thankful, kissing her cheek. Junmyeon noticed he was not drinking himself.

“Thank you,” he said, “The orchestra was wonderful, were they not?”

“Yes, it goes beyond saying, ah. But you! You, darling, oh and _that symphony,”_ she continued, “I was crying the whole time.”

“I’m very flattered” he said, blushing slightly. He looked up, realized Junmyeon was there, and his face pinkened further.

“Oh! Yes, I’ve been told you and Junmyeon know each other,” she said, and Junmyeon felt himself blushing as well. “He had not heard your work before, though. I _had_ to remedy that, of course. Beautiful, was it not, Junmyeon?”

“I was nothing short of amazed,” he said, and Minseok blinked, staring at him. Junmyeon could not help but think how cute he was, then. “It was moving, immense work. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Minseok replied, surprised, but his ears were turning red, and Junmyeon was then looking at him differently. Different from any previous gaze he had given Minseok. He was beginning to see, then. That this just wasn’t the man who took over the business his father was involved in.

They talked, for the rest of the night. About many things. Nothing of their previous encounters touched upon, simply conversing, about themselves, their work, and the like. It had gone long enough that Minseok had offered kindly to give him a ride home, in his expensive, pretentious limousine, and Junmyeon considered his intentions, but Minseok looked nothing but sincere. He trusted his intuition, and said yes.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” Junmyeon said inside the car, as they were driving to his place. It was late enough that there wasn’t much traffic, and it was rather quiet out on the streets.

“I’ve done okay,” Minseok said, hands folded on his lap, legs crossed. He was very quiet. “It came together very quickly. I’m thankful it went without incident.”

“Does it. Go, with incident? Often?” he asked, hoping Minseok would understand the underlying question.

He did. “Not during the shows. Many of my, ah. Acquaintances, they know to at least give me brief after the shows. But I was fortunate today. Instead of meeting them, I met you.”

Junmyeon was thankful it was dark, lest his blush be seen.

“You know, the last time we saw one another,” Minseok began, and Junmyeon went quiet, “You thought. Well, we both know what you thought.”

“Yes. I’m sorry for that.”

“No, it’s alright. I understood, where you were coming from,” he said. He paused for a moment, gathering his words, and he said quietly, “I just wanted it to be clear. Even if just this one time, I want you to know. That I was there for you. Not to recruit you, but. Because I remembered you from before, and I thought you were beautiful. And I wanted to see you again. Just because I wanted to.”

It was achingly clear then. Junmyeon’s chest went tight, and his heart pounded.

Minseok smiled softly at him. “That’s all. I just. I don’t want you thinking you were a business deal I needed to make. I liked you. Like you.”

Junmyeon understood.

He paused, looking at Minseok, and he cleared his throat, deciding what to do. Leaned forward to tap the glass separating them from the driver, said, “The partition, please.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, bringing it up, and it’s suddenly much more private.

“What was that for?” Minseok asked. Junmyeon breathed deeply, and ambled over him, so he was straddling his lap. Minseok blinked, surprised.

Junmyeon leaned forward, and kissed him. He was so sweet on his tongue.

He ended up on his knees, sucking Minseok’s cock. Then pushed against the seat, as Minseok plowed into him from behind, cock thick and fitting inside him perfectly.

It was a good night. He told Minseok by the end of it, when they were at the steps to his building, “Come see me in my gallery, when you have time.”

He was sure Minseok didn’t have much of that. But it didn’t matter to him, because Minseok _made_ time. He was there at work the next day, in all black and looking beautiful, and even brought him coffee. He was there again the next day, and the next, and they had conversations for hours, about the art. About their lives. About what they liked, disliked.

A week in, their conversations got so long, it extended to dinner. The next week, a nightcap in Junmyeon’s apartment. The next week, breakfast after a night of vigorous fucking in which neither of them had slept.

The next time, Minseok had brought his cat, and Junmyeon his dog, and they walked around the park nearby, sitting on the benches and sharing donuts and coffee.

The next time, Minseok brought him over to his place for the first time. The mansion was _huge,_ expansive and beautiful, and Junmyeon was quite sure the garden was more of a forest.

“Make yourself at home, I just need to change,” Minseok told him, smiling, before going up through the back stairs from where they entered. Looking around, it’s obviously a kitchen, but it’s about the biggest one Junmyeon has ever seen, full of the most state of the art appliances and it’s scary clean.

Junmyeon felt. Not quite out of place, but overwhelmed, by the vastness of everything, as he walked about, going through the rooms to the huge lobby. It was a lot to take in.

But, he had barely taken a few steps before he had stopped, staring at the center of the high wall of the staircase landing.

Displayed proudly, perfectly and with care, were the tapestry pieces. The whole series was mounted up on the wall, the centerpiece of everything, and Junmyeon is dumbfounded, speechless. A little emotional.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Tan was tearing up my curtains, and - Junmyeon?”

Minseok was coming down the stairs, pausing when he saw Junmyeon staring at the pieces.

Junmyeon. Can’t quite speak. Thinks, or tries to.

“You. You were my buyer? My first buyer?” he asks, trying not to let his voice croak too much.

Minseok looks at him. He, in a rare moment, looks nervous, unsure. “I. Yes. It was me.”

“Min, you,” Junmyeon breathes, chest tight. “Selling that piece, it changed _everything_ for me. You? It was you?”

“I was a small part of it,” he said, “the smallest part. It was your work-“

“Minseok. That first sell gave me my first real start,” Junmyeon said. His eyes were stinging. “I don’t. I _have_ to thank you.”

“No, don’t, Myeon,” he said. “There is much I would do for you. They are all my pleasure.”

Junmyeon was sure he stopped breathing for a moment. _“‘They?’”_

Minseok realized his words, and he was then very quiet. “Please don’t misunderstand.”

“Please. Please tell me,” Junmyeon asked him. He came up to Minseok, held his hands and held them close to his chest, asking, wanting. His heart was so full.

“I. I don’t want you to feel burdened, or. Like you owe me anything,” Minseok said, and Junmyeon shook his head, _no._

“The only thing I feel is thankful,” Junmyeon told him. For Minseok doing what he’s done, for being he man he is. Mostly, because he had met him again, and given this a chance.

Eventually, Minseok revealed more. The handsome sum Junmyeon’s father received had come from _him,_ his first order of business when he had ascended to the role his father had before him was to give the loyal men of his father’s circle an opportunity of a life of more comfort and peace. He had given them their security, and Junmyeon discovered that many of the sales his gallery had successfully transacted were in part due to his influence. Recommending his art and him as an art dealer to his many acquaintances. Going around the mansion, Junmyeon realizes that the tapestries were not the only pieces Minseok had secretly acquired from him.

And yet, Minseok wanted him to forget about it all. Wanted to hide the fact that he had given Junmyeon virtually _everything_ in his life now, his success, his comfort and money and prestige.

“Really just smile for me,” Minseok had said when a Junmyeon asked what he had wanted in return, eyes soft and tender. “Just smile. That is more than enough for me, from you. Please don’t think you owe me. All I want is for you to be happy.”

And. Junmyeon understood. Really, truly understood, and saw what Minseok was trying to do.

He was trying so hard, to give him normalcy, give him everything. Date him properly, quietly, kiss him in the morning and the evening, kisses that made Junmyeon melt. Take care of him, call him beautiful, smile because Junmyeon liked seeing it on his face and because he was so happy, and.

He was much, much more than the man whom the crime ring circled around. He was a music maker, artist, cat lover, decent cook, with a fantastic cock and who spoiled him with designer things and sudden trips to places Junmyeon had never been to even though Junmyeon didn’t need any of it because he earned enough for himself. He was so much more than what Junmyeon had judged him for, and he accepted the job. Or he thought he had, in the very least, accepted that it was a part of Minseok, even if Minseok made it known that it was something he wasn’t proud of. And he knew, and he saw beyond that.

He looked too far, got too comfortable, because the reality of it came crashing right on to him.

It happened one night, as he was closing up the gallery for the evening.

Two men, of slight build, standing in front of the blood red abstract pieces from a Dutch artist he had recently met. Junmyeon cleared his throat politely, said, “I’m sorry, but we are closed for the evening.”

“Oh, no worries,” one of them had said.

“We’re not here for the art, anyway,” the other one said, and Junmyeon paused.

“Forgive me. I don’t understand,” he said, and they both turned to look at him. And from the looks in their eyes, he knew.

“We’re sorry for being so forward, but it has come to our attention that you have become particularly close to kingpin Xiumin,” they said. Junmyeon stood his ground, but he was deeply afraid, his heart stopping in his chest with almost every other breath.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really, now?” they said, smirks on their faces, and one of them brought out his phone, and showed him pictures of him and Minseok together, out in the park, while having coffee, having dinner, and, Junmyeon’s face burns, through the window of his apartment, where he had been on his knees and sucking Minseok enthusiastically. “How do you know Kim Minseok, then?”

Junmyeon breathed in, trying to keep it quiet. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Hmm, so you’re telling us you don’t know that your _boyfriend_ is the leader of the most powerful mafia group in Seoul, possibly in all of the Eastern Hemisphere?” he’s asked, and Junyeon can’t say anything. Says nothing, trying to think of what he should do, because he knows too clearly what they’re here to do. They’re here because they know he’s important to Minseok, because hurting him will hurt Minseok intimately, personally. Personal vendetta or revenge or a means to draw him out, it doesn’t really matter, because end of it is he’ll either be taken, hurt, or killed. He knows how these things go, even though he’d denounced the life that was set up for him by his family’s connections.

“We highly doubt that you would be unaware. After all, you were also born into the business as well, were you not, Kim Junmyeon?” they asked. Junmyeon felt his blood run cold.

“I’m afraid I won’t be of any help to either of you. Please leave,” he said, heart hammering in his chest, but they smile at each other, then laugh.

“You’ll be plenty help, even if you don’t know,” one of them said, and it’s a flash of movement, Junmyeon couldn’t even see what was happening, but one moment, there was a slash of pain, fleeting but searing, and he was on his knees suddenly, clutching his stomach, and holding his cheek, hand smeared red from the blood dripping from the cut on his cheek.

“Consider that a warning, for your. Hmm, _boyfriend.”_

Junmyeon grit his teeth, knowing it better to keep his tongue reeled in and not fight back, knowing he’s outmatched, but there was a searing, burning _anger_ in him, that they would use him, that they would dare taunt Minseok. That they would think that they were any match for him, and this is a new feeling. One he didn’t know he would have the capability of feeling, but he didn’t have the time to ponder.

Because one second later, there were twin bangs, the sound of a gun being fired, and there were the two men, dropping lifelessly to the ground right in front of him, clean shots to the backs of their heads.

Junmyeon looked up, and Minseok was standing a ways off, gun in his hand, staring coldly at them for less than a moment, then, once seeing Junmyeon, his eyes soften immediately, dropping everything and coming over to him.

“Myeon,” he murmured, holding his face in his hands, and Junmyeon hissed slightly as Minseok ran his thumb over the wound on his cheek. “They hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” he said, because he really was. A cut on his cheek, a hit to his stomach, it was nothing. “Min, I’m fine. I promise.”

“They hurt you,” Minseok repeated, but his voice, his eyes were dark, and Junmyeon tried to hold on to him. Tried to keep him there, in the moment, “They’ll pay for this.”

“They already did,” he said, glancing quickly at their bodies, and he tries to kiss Minseok, but he can see the shame and guilt in his eyes, right before he turns his head so Junmyeon’s lips press against his cheek instead, and Junmyeon’s chest is suddenly so heavy, not knowing what Minseok is feeling, feeling. “Minseok. I’m okay.”

“They hurt you, because of me,” he said. His voice sounds hurt, fully guilty.

“No, no. Minseok.”

“Junmyeon, I’m so sorry,” he said, and Junmyeon’s heart breaks.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, and he felt his hands shaking then. Residual stress from being threatened, maybe, but also, fear. Of not being enough to balm Minseok’s fears and guilt even if it wasn’t his fault, and he hates it.

”Still,” Minseok said. He paused, and gently lowered his hands, and Junmyeon didn’t know why but he suddenly felt his eyes sting. He took Minseok’s hands in his, but it was too evident that Minseok was trying to move away. It was exactly what he didn’t want. “I know you didn’t want to involve yourself in this, in what I did. But. Because of me-”

“Minseok, stop. Stop,” he said, not wanting him to go down that path. Junmyeon needed, _needed,_ for them them to talk. Couldn’t let Minseok think this way when it was not what he felt, because he’d grown past that. What Minseok did to earn his money didn’t matter anymore to him.

Minseok didn’t say anything for several moments. Then, he unlocking his phone, and speaking quietly as he made a call, “Han, come over to the gallery. Junmyeon is hurt. Bring your equipment.”

“This, there’s no need. It’s nothing I can’t fix myself,” he said, and Minseok has come to mean _so much_ to him, really. Everything, he means everything, and it’s breaking his heart, that he can see too clearly that this is hurting Minseok more than it is him. “Min.”

“I should have just left you alone,” Minseok berated himself, and Junmyeon felt his heart break. He lifted his hands away from Minseok’s, staring at him, words locked up in his throat. “They wouldn’t have hurt you that way.”

“But that’s not all you are,” he said. His eyes sting. “What are you saying?”

“I’m in love with you, Junmyeon,” he said, clearly, directly. But it sounds like he’s saying it with a lot of regret, and Junmyeon hates the way it sounds on his tongue. “But. It’s because I love you, that they’ve targeted you.”

“But you got here on time, didn’t you?”

“They wouldn’t have come after you in the first place if we weren’t together at all,” he said in a voice too hard, too different from what Junmyeon was used to hearing from him. “I. I should have foreseen this, I should have known that they would come after you. I should have been more careful.”

“Minseok. I _don’t blame you,”_ Junmyeon said, and it’s true. This could have gone much worse. He could have gotten more hurt, and it’s fully possible that they’ll come for Junmyeon again. But he would never, _never,_ blame Minseok for this, when it really wasn’t his fault. “Don’t. Don’t act rashly, I’m okay. I promise you.”

But Minseok doesn’t say anything else, not even when his on-call medic comes not much later, quickly and efficiently cleaning and treating Junmyeon’s little wound, not even when some of Minseok’s men come in, taking the bodies, cleaning up.

It’s around an hour later, when he said, “Maybe. Maybe it would be better, if we weren’t involved, anymore.”

Junmyeon _hates_ him, then. Devastated, so deeply saddened and hurt, more so than when those men had come for him. That he would give this up. All the quiet moments together, the softness that he had never had with anyone else, unable to give it up. He can’t, Junmyeon _can’t,_ and he won’t, can’t let Minseok just give them up like this when they’ve barely even started. But he can’t be around Minseok anymore like this, needs a moment to breathe.

“Leave,” he said, coldly, and he doesn’t look up to see Minseok’s face fall, but he does as asked of him, leaving Junmyeon there, and Junmyeon wills himself not to cry, but his chest feels hollow, so deeply devastated.

It’s a few days later, at a brunch event with the same artsy rich people of the high society. He’s having champagne, not getting full enough on the small hors d'oeuvres they’re serving and standing off to the side, making small talk with the rich patrons who have bought art from him.

“A little accident while making dinner,” he explained kindly when one of them asked about the small bandage on his cheek, and he smiled at them politely. “A silly little accident.”

“Oh, it won’t be permanent, will it? A handsome face like yours, it would be a shame,” they said, and he smiled tightly.

“It won’t, it’s not very deep,” he replied.

“Oh, that’s good,” she said, smiling at him, taking a bite of her smoked salmon bruschetta, and another one pat his arm, saying, “Minseok must have taken care of you well?”

“He. Well. He’s been very busy, we haven’t had much time to see each other, as of late,” he said, not quite sure how to break the news that they aren’t quite _involved_ at the moment.

They made common faces of disappointment, sad little noises. “Oh, what a shame. You know, that boy, he should take care of you!”

“He does,” he said. Took care of him well enough to wipe out the men who had threatened him without much remorse. “He’s just been busy.”

“Oh, we do hope to see him at the next gathering,” they told him, “such a wonderful boy. But he really only became livelier when you two began seeing each other.”

“Yes, poor boy always kept to himself usually. Ah, but when you came along, that smile of his lit up the room.”

“Oh. I don’t know,” Junmyeon said shyly. Minseok was just very shy. He didn’t do much.

“Oh, but really!” she said, “the last time, during my darling Mina’s birthday party-“

“Oh yes!” another one of them said, light in her eyes excited and looking so delighted. “Anyone could tell he was so in love. Talking about you, saying how inspired he was. Said he was composing a new piece, a beautiful little concerto about you!”

“Me?” Junmyeon blinked, and he found himself blushing. “Oh. I don’t think so, he wouldn’t have-“

“But he is!” they told him, insisting. “He’d even shown is a bit of it, it’s _beautiful,_ really already such a wonderful piece. Oh, but he said it was supposed to be a gift for you, I’d forgotten-“

“Just pretend to be surprised when he shows you, Junmyeon,” they said, “hmm, that must be why he must be so busy! Finishing it up.”

“I really doubt I could impact him that much,” he said honestly, and they stared at him, surprised and really too shocked, as if he could be saying that. “We haven't been together very long. And Minseok is just very kind by nature, I don’t think-“

“Oh, poor boy can’t tell he’s in love!” they coo at him, and Junmyeon’s ears burned. “Oh, Junmyeon, truly. If our first husbands treated us the way your Minseok treats you, oh. We’d still be married to them!”

“Not even your second husband showered you with affection that way, Narae.”

“Of course, that’s why I’m with my third now!” she laughed, and Junmyeon is still reeling. “Oh, Junmyeon, we’ve known Minseok for a few years now. Trust us when we say he’s never been like this.”

“Do give him our best regards when you see each other!” they told him, and he promised in return.

His heart hammered in his chest, and he had to put his drink down, eyes welling up, overwhelmed. And he can’t go much further without him, he realized.

As quick things are, as quiet as they’ve been. As busy as Minseok is, with his dual life, Junmyeon understands now.  

He drove himself to Minseok’s estate not long after, and walking in with the code through the kitchen entrance Minseok entrusted him with, he felt the place much too quiet.

“Min?” he called out, walking through the kitchen, and nothing seems to be out of place. But it didn’t take very long for him to see that there was something terribly wrong.

A bloody handprint, fresh on the granite of the counter. He swallowed,  and looked down, droplets of blood on the floor, and he followed the trail, out to the spacious lobby, then to the living room, and his heart drops.

“Minseok, oh my god,” he breathed, Minseok right at the foot of the leather couch, sprawled out on the floor and bleeding right on to the expensive carpet, clutching his shoulder, looking pale and pained, and Junmyeon was crying instantly as he got on his knees, gasping as he tried  to survey his wound, see how he can help him. “Minseok, what happened?”

“M-Myeon?” he said softly, weakened and in pain. He groaned as Junmyeon moved his hand slightly to see the damage, and Junmyeon’s heart fell even deeper. Gunshot wound, more than one by the looks of the amount of blood, and he’s crying even more, but trying to keep the noise minimal, needed to keep himself together.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked through his tears, taking off his own jacket and pressing it down on the wounds, leaning down as much as he can and watching as Minseok’s face pinches, but he can’t have him pass out. Can’t let him bleed out.

“No, I’ll, I’ll be okay, it’s just a minor shot. Please, go-”

“Minseok, you’re hurt,” he gritted out, trying not to break down. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“I already called Lu Han, they’ll be here soon-”

“You’ll bleed out too much by then,” he yelled, crying, gasping between words. He sobs, pushing down on his shoulder more, heart shattering when Minseok looked at him so sadly. “Let me help you, _fuck,_ please. Your first aid kit.”

A tear ran down Minseok’s cheek, and he answered finally, quietly, “Third drawer down, next to the bigger fridge.”

He ran to retrieve it, tears running down his face all the while, but he didn't pause to wipe at them. Couldn’t think of anything but Minseok, bleeding out on his rug, and how he needed to be by his side, always, now, forever. Regardless of what he did. _Because_ of what he did.

He’s back to his side moments later, one hand on his shoulder, blood seeping through the jacket and onto his palm, the other going through the supplies in the kit. He can’t stop crying.

“You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” he repeated, over and over, and Minseok reached over. Held his hand over his shoulder limply, told him, “For you, for you I will be.”

Junmyeon cried, sobbed, but didn’t have the time to wail about it. Went back to the kit and pulled out the gauze, and placed it over the wound, over his jacket, pressing down more trying to get the bleeding to dissipate.

“Hold on, please hold on,” Junmyeon pleaded, and Minseok blinked slowly, but he fought to keep himself awake. Junmyeon kissed his forehead, his cheek, briefly on his mouth, murmuring the words over and over, minutes passing by.

It felt too long before the doors were being opened, and several men came in. Junmyeon held himself over Minseok protectively, but Minseok murmured quietly, “it’s okay, Myeon, they’re okay.”

“Minseok, _shit,_ what have you gotten yourself into this time?” someone said exasperatedly, and Junmyeon recognized him at least, the same man who treated his small cheek cut a few days previously.

“Those two guys I wiped out in the gallery? Yeah, their boss didn’t take too kindly to it,” he said weakly, but still smiling, and Junmyeon wanted to _sob,_ because in protecting him, Minseok had gotten hurt in turn. “Snuck up on me while on the road, shouldn’t have brought the convertible today. If someone clean my car, please-“

“Shut up,” Junmyeon cried, pushing down on his shoulder more, making Minseok wince. “Shut _up,_ they could have killed you.”

“Well, their aim was shit, so they didn’t,” he said, and Junmyeon slapped his chest, crying.

“Stop it. Stop it,” he cried, spilling tears and sobbing.

Minseok went quiet, Junmyeon pressing down still as Luhan prepared his tools for an emergency operation, and he said, “Myeon. I’m sorry.”

He kept crying, knowing he’ll be _mortified,_ for being so emotional like this in the near future, but he couldn’t care, at the moment. He _hated_ this, that he wasn’t with him when it happened. That there was even just the briefest of moments that he and Minseok weren’t each other’s, because had he not been here, had he not made himself drive over here, Minseok would have bled out too quickly. He could have, _fuck-_

“Okay, gonna fix you right up, boss,” Lu Han said, getting down next to him and pulling on gloves. “I’m afraid we don’t have much time to get you on a real operating table, you’re bleeding out a lot.”

“Alright,” Minseok said, wincing as Lu Han began cutting up his clothes. “Shame about the carpet. Came all the way from Morocco.”

“Should have thought about bleeding out on a less expensive surface, then,” Lu Han snorts, getting his tools out. “Junmyeon? Good job. This could have been a lot more serious, if you weren’t applying the pressure it needed. You did really well.”

He can barely register the words, barely listening, and he stared down still at Minseok, unable to leave him. Completely unwilling to. “Junmyeon.”

“No,” he said instantly. Knows by the tone in Minseok’s voice that he’s being made to leave.

“Please. You, you should go,” he said, and Junmyeon just shook his head desperately, “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“No,” he said, and he’s crying even more. Can’t take this pain. “You’re hurt. I can’t leave you.”

“He’ll be alright,” Lu Han assured him, “He’s a hard headed little shit.”

“I’m literally your boss,” Minseok said, glaring despite he gunshot wounds in his shoulder.

“He’s been through worse, he’ll power through,” Lu Han continued nonchalantly, observing the wound and bringing the appropriate tools out.

Junmyeon can’t stop crying nonetheless, hating them for being so lighthearted about it, but more so hating that he couldn’t do more. He felt _useless._

Minseok looked at him, so sadly, eyes shining, “I’m sorry, Junmyeon.”

“Shut up, just get better,” he said, not wanting to hear his apology, because he didn’t need to say it. There wasn’t any need for one, because _he’s_ the one who got shot. He cried, and kissed him one more time, “you can’t leave me yet, you hear me? Not yet. Not for a long time.”

“Okay,” he replied, and Junmyeon is being lead out by a few more of Minseok’s men, out to the kitchen.

He’s shaking too much. One of the men kindly brought him over to the sink, washing most of Minseok’s blood away, and offering him a new shirt.

“He’ll be alright,” they told him. He tried to listen, but his heart still raced in his chest with fear. “He’s been through worse and had fought to stay for less.”

He cried again.

It was many hours later, sky gone dark, before Luhan came out of the living room, looking tired but bright, removing the gloves he’d used and saying, “he’ll live. Fortunately, I guess. Wasn’t a serious shot, he was right when he said their aim was bad, but he waited too long to call me. Could have bled out had you not been here, Junmyeon. We were lucky this time.”

He listened, and his hands shook still. He can still see the blood staining his skin.

“Want to go see him?”

He did, and he went over back to the living room, where Minseok was laid out on the couch, bare chested but bandages wrapped over his shoulder, his torso. Upon seeing Junmyeon, he smiled, sadly, softly.

Junmyeon wanted to cry again, wanted to collapse and wanted to beg him to not get hurt again. It wasn’t a realistic plea.

“How are you?” he asked instead, sitting on the coffee table next to the couch. He held his hand, could feel Minseok tentative under his touch, but he held on, unwilling to let go for even a moment.

“I’m okay,” Minseok replied. He sounded honest, but weak. Junmyeon’s chest felt battered.  “Are you okay? I’m sorry for making you so worried.”

Junmyeon wanted to cry all over again. “I’ll be okay if you’re okay.”

“Alright. I’ll do my quickest to get better, then,” he promised, and Junmyeon felt his heart swell and shatter, all at the same time. “What were you doing here?”

“I. I wanted to see you,” Junmyeon told him. He blinked rapidly to stave off his tears. “I had something to say to you.”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” he said, apologizing even though he shouldn’t have to. “I. I know this must be hard. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you seeing me like this. Seeing me in general, it must be hurting you. I’m sorry.”

“We can’t do anything about that anymore,” he said honestly, frankly. He can’t help it.

He didn’t miss the way Minseok’s face fell. He felt regret instantly for his choice of words. “I’m sorry. I - I know. This is why you shouldn’t involve yourself with me. This won’t be the last time I’ll get hurt, and I know you don’t like that.”

“Well, I’m involved now!” he said, too loudly, and he began to cry again. Big, fat stupid tears rolling down his cheeks and he fought not to sob too loudly, wiping at his face. Minseok’s fingers were gentle on his.

“Please don’t cry anymore,” Minseok said gently, sadly. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot. I don’t want you to worry, I’m fine.”

 _“‘You’re fine,’”_ Junmyeon gasped, trying to mock him but his sobbing wasn’t helping. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t, because of you,” Minseok said. “Thank you.”

“I hate this,” he admitted. He cried harder. “I hate that I couldn't help you more. I hate that I could have lost you.”

“I must confess, this really doesn’t happen often,” he said, and Junmyeon wants to hit him for trying to make the situation even the slightest bit humorous. He settled for squeezing his hand too tightly. “But. Really. Thank you for helping me. I promise I’m okay. I don’t want you to worry about me anymore. I’m okay.”

Junmyeon didn’t like the way his voice sounded. Dismissive, resigned, and he shook his head vigorously, holding on to him tighter.

“You’ve done, _so much._ More than enough, for me. The most wonderful months of my life. Thank you. You shouldn’t get involved anymore.”

“No,” he said, making his voice as he’d as he could. Can’t listen to him speak this way, because it’s not what he wants, and he knew it wasn’t what Minseok really wanted, either. “I want to get involved.”

“Myeon-“

 _“I want to look after you,”_ he said, “I want to take care of you, I want to be with you. I know this is part of it. Then so be it.”

Minseok looked at him, pained, in love but wanting to protect him. Junmyeon held on tighter. “Junmyeon. Please. It will be too hard.”

“I know that,” he replied. “But. You can’t decide for both of us, alone. Please, don’t make me stay away from you anymore. I’ve made my choice, and I want to be involved.”

Minseok had begun crying, and Junmyeon kneeled beside him, staying close. He was crying too, but he felt strong. Never surer.

“I’m in love with you. All parts of you, even the ones that are hard. I accept you,” he said, finally understanding. He didn’t know, before, that he had to. But now, seeing it, he knew it wasn’t enough to tolerate it. He had to take it in, accept him, everything, do more, and. He was ready for it.

Because as powerful as Minseok was, he was still a man, who could hurt. Who could make breakfast in the morning. Who loved his dog like he did, who took him out to walks in the park. Who had the best taste in art and who made beautiful music. He was much more than just dangerous. He was beautiful, and Junmyeon didn’t, couldn’t, keep himself away, and he won’t. And he finally understood.

He accepted what he did, fully, honestly, now. And he wants him in his life regardless. _Because_ of it.

Minseok cried, and Junmyeon kissed him. Let their lips melt into each other’s.

“I love you,” he said. Minseok cried more.

“I love you, _oh._ Myeon, I love you so much,” Minseok told him.

“They’ll pay for hurting you,” Junmyeon said, pressing the words on to his cheek, his neck.

And he meant it. He next day, he had called Minseok’s men while Minseok was asleep, knocked out by painkillers, told them decisively, _“Find them. Finish them off. The whole group.”_

And they did, all within a few days. It was more satisfying than Junmyeon had thought it would be, when he’d gotten a call where all that was said was, _“Mocha bread.”_ Meaning, _‘cleared.’_

He moved in less than a year later, and it was a happy time. His happiest.

Until, he and Minseok watch a musical many months later, a small production that used Minseok’s music and based their story around it.

And the two male leads. Junmyeon watched, and watched Minseok fall in love.

He. Wasn’t quite devastated, but more curious. He knew Minseok didn’t even recognize what he was probably feeling, he held Minseok’s hand tightly, felt his fingers almost crushed in return, and they stood easily in ovation at the end, giving the artists what he felt was the very least of what they deserved.

“Want to go backstage?”Junmyeon had asked him, and Minseok looked at him, dazed, not understanding. Junmyeon brought him back regardless.

That first meeting, was _something._

“Kim Jongdae, Byun Baekhyun, the best there is,” the director had introduced them, and Junmyeon watched just. A warmth, a spark just lighten up the room, when they all set their eyes on each other. He knew, just with the way Minseok looked at them both, that there was so much _softness_ and _love,_ and he could see it in the way they looked at him, too.

Junmyeon didn’t know it then, but he would recognize, acknowledge in the future. That he looked at them both similarly at that moment, with a warmth and a potential for _more,_ even if he couldn’t place it at the time.

“I’m, I’m Kim Minseok,” he had said then. His eyes were so bright that night. Looked the slightest bit shy, so similar to the way he had when he had met Junmyeon, but hiding it well beneath of facade of assured confidence. It’s worked him well with his life as a mafia leader, as a society man, as a musician. It’s yet to see success in this manner.

“He’s so pretty,” one of them, Baekhyun, Junmyeon remembered, said, something of a poor stage whisper to his partner. Minseok blushed, and Junmyeon held his hand tightly. It didn’t go missed by the two, and Jongdae held Baekhyun’s hand in a way that told them easily, subtly, _“We’re together. Don’t be threatened.”_

Junmyeon wasn’t, but it was achingly clear to him that his love had felt confused.

Minseok had offered them dinner, a small celebration and gift for a beautiful performance, and Junmyeon watched him fall, the whole time. He didn’t know what to feel.

When they were leaving, Minseok saw a small flower shop, miraculously still open, and Junmyeon saw his eyes go towards the display, the last few bouquets. Junmyeon didn’t know what to do, knowing his soulmate was obviously, evidently, falling in love, in front of him. He didn’t feel distant, or different towards Junmyeon. Just, he could see, his heart wasn’t just for him anymore.

“Please, wait a moment,” he said to Baekhyun and Jongdae, who blinked at him as he steered Minseok inside the shop.

“The peach toned roses are pretty,” Junmyeon said, and he really, _really,_ had no idea what he was doing. Didn’t know why he was doing this, trying to help him _woo_ these men, but. He felt, somehow, this was the right thing to do.

“I, yes. They are,” he said, still a little dazed. Still, somewhat slightly helpless. Junmyeon was sure he’d get better at this with time.

“You should go buy some. For them,” he told him.

Minseok looked at him, questioning. Confused. Junmyeon kisses him, thoroughly, wetly, until they part and Minseok is even more dazed, lips puffy and cheeks pink.

“Go on,” he told him softly. “They’re waiting.”

And Minseok bought the flowers, and when he gifted it to them, their faces blushed similarly, and Junmyeon knew, _just knew._

That would not be the last time. The next time, it was a private brunch, the four of them, and Minseok brought them sunflowers he had cut from the garden he’d been cultivating. The next time, daisies at lunch, then tulips at dinner, then gardenias, then more and more and Junmyeon knew that Minseok was in love with them. In love with them both, but.

All the while, he treated Junmyeon the same. If not, better, kissing him and holding him whenever they were within inches of each other, not afraid to hold his hand and tell him in beautiful murmurs against his lips or cheeks how in love with him he was.

Minseok seemed to _grow_ in love, more and more, for Junmyeon. For them, sees it in the soft glances filled with longing he directs to them, such a beautiful couple, playful with each other and him, easy in their smiles. Junmyeon saw it too clearly. And he was conflicted, because he didn’t want to be selfish. Didn’t want to deny Minseok more love, but it was still too strange, still too foreign a thing for him to grasp.

But. His heart was not breaking. It took some time, but he’d come to understand that his heart was. Expanding, somehow. Moving, growing in a way that he was still trying to understand.

He didn’t know what to do, still.

“Oh, Junmyeon,” Jongdae blinked in surprise when he opened the door. Junmyeon’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his chest, didn’t stop right from the moment he’d decided to pay Jongdae and Baekhyun a visit in their apartment. “Hello.”

“Minseok’s not with me,” he said, instead of what he’d meant to say, _‘Sorry to intrude, I just wanted to talk.’_

“Oh, no, I wasn’t looking for him,” he said. “Come in? It’s just me today, Baekhyun has rehearsals for a new show.”

“I, right, thank you,” he said, coming in, wringing his hands together and trying not to look too nervous. “I just. I won’t take long. I just wanted a word.”

“Alright,” Jongdae said. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Not at all,” he said, and Junmyeon was sweating. Jumps right into it.

“I just wanted to ask, how are you, and. And Baekhyun?” he asked, not even sitting down. Not even taking off his coat.

“Baek and I? We’re fine,” he answered. His eyes were very bright, and Junmyeon found himself a little more charmed.

He decided to admit to him, directly, straightforwardly, “I’m sure. Well, I don’t know if you noticed, or anything. But. Minseok, he’s very fond of both of you. He has very strong feelings for the two of you.”

Jongdae looked around the apartment subtly, and Junmyeon noted the multitude and variety of flowers, in varying states of drying and wilting and freshness, surrounding them. All gifts from Minseok, and it’s enough to answer him.

“I also have a feeling. That, the two of you,” he started, trying to word himself properly. “You two, must feel strongly about him, too.”

Jongdae paused. Stood up a little straighter, looked him straight in the eye, without faltering, truthful, honest. “Junmyeon, we promise you. _Swear_ to you, that. That there is nothing going on. He is not seeing us behind your back, or anything of that nature.”

“I know,” he said, because Minseok is open with him. Had been, ever since he almost bled out on his living room floor, and he’d never hidden anything from Junmyeon that day forward. Told him honestly where he would be going for the day, which job he was doing. Who he was targeting. They’d promised each other, and he knows Minseok would never lie to him. “I know he isn’t. But I know. That he is almost certainly very much in love with the both of you.”

“I. I don’t know about that.”

“Hmm, but he is.”

Jongdae looked at him, and Junmyeon looked back, and things were very quiet between them for several moments. Then, Jongdae told him, “Junmyeon. We, Baekhyun and I both, we see how Minseok is with you. We see just how much he _loves_ you. We won’t come between that.”

“I know he’s in love with me,” he said. “And, we have fought very hard for our love. But, I see him with both of you and I can’t deny, he’s in love with you too.”

“We can’t replace you,” Jongdae said softly.

“It’s not about replacing,” Junmyeon said, and. It’s coming into the light, and he understood more clearly. “It’s. It’s really about _accepting,_ that there can be room for more. More than one person, in your heart.”

Jongdae looked hopeful, but guarded. “We can’t do that to you, Junmyeon. You’ve been so kind to us, we can’t-“

“Do you love him?” he asked. “Please be honest with me. If just this one thing.”

Jongdae was evidently torn, thinking of what he should say, and Junmyeon waited patiently.

“Yes,” he said. Paused, considering his words, and admitted even more softly, “I’m. I’m sure Baekhyun does, too.”

“Okay,” Junmyeon said to him. “That’s okay. I promise.”

And he meant it. Instead of any envy or jealousy or anger or sadness, he felt. Relief, a calm, and he knew what it meant, then.

After dinner that night, Minseok was on the bed when Junmyeon had come out of the bathroom, typing something quite seriously on his laptop, and while they had their own rooms, recognizing early in the importance of having privacy after an argument in which they had yelled at each other, Junmyeon had been sleeping in Minseok’s master bedroom the last few nights, since he’d felt that things were becoming different. Not for anything bad. Just was.

He knew they needed to talk about Baekhyun and Jongdae, as soon as possible. Possibly, right at that moment. He felt that a good way to start a conversation was to climb right on top of him, still a little wet from his shower and more or less naked in just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Myeon?” Minseok asked, looking up at him, but he adjusted for him anyway, holding his ass as he settled on his lap a little more comfortably. “What is it?”

“Needed to talk to you,” he said, leaning down to brush his lips with Minseok’s softly. “Also. My hole feels empty, want you to fuck me.”

“What do you want to do first?”

“Hmm, we can do it at the same time,” he replied, throwing the towel aside, and coming for Minseok’s shirt, making him chuckle quietly and yield under his touch.

It’s when he’s on his back, head thrown back on the pillows as Minseok hovered above him, cock in his ass and plunging in and out with hard thrusts that he said, in as steady a voice he can manage, punctuated with gasps as he’s fucked into, “I. I know you’re in love with them.”

Minseok paused, body stilling above his. “What?”

“I know. I, I've seen. You’re in love with Baekhyun and Jongdae,” Junmyeon said, looking at him. Minseok seemed frozen, surprised, and. Ashamed, and Junmyeon doesn’t want him to be, because, “It’s okay, Min.”

“I,” he tried, but he stopped again, words in his throat. He’s tearing up, and Junmyeon held him close, trying not to coo, but. “Junmyeon. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t lie, to me. To yourself,” Junmyeon told him, touching his face gently, kissing him. When he felt Minseok melt into him a little more, his eyes closing and leaning his face into Junmyeon’s palms, he continued, “You love them. And that’s okay. Please don’t deny yourself.”

“Junmyeon. I’m, I’m sorry,” he said, trying to pull out, but Junmyeon tightened around him, legs wrapped around his waist. “I promise you, I didn’t, I never did anything with them-“

“I know. I know you’re loyal,” Junmyeon told him. “I’m not mad.”

“I’m still sorry,” Minseok said. His heart ached at the tears in Minseok’s eyes. “I, please. Don’t misunderstand. You are _more_ than what I deserve, I am happy with you. So, _so happy-“_

“But you could be happier,” he said. “With them, in your life. Like in the way I am, you could be.”

Minseok’s eyes widened. “Junmyeon, no-“

“Just. Just try it, try asking them,” he said, and when Minseok didn’t move, he took matters into his own hands. Turned them over on the bed and sank down on Minseok’s cock, sighing.

Minseok looked up at him, face red and muscles straining with the will not to fuck up into him, but he looked determined. “Junmyeon, you’re my soulmate.”

“And I’m telling you. You can have more than one soulmate,” he said, rolling down. “You can have a lot, as many as you want. And, you know. It will be okay, no matter how many we are.”

Minseok turned his face slightly to the side, closing his eyes. Junmyeon leaned down, kissed away a tear on the corner of Minseok’s eye. “I will love you, regardless. Because of it. As long as you talk to me, about them. About them all. I will stay. I have stayed and will continue to do so. I love you.”

Minseok sighed, holding his hands, pushing his hips up slightly. Junmyeon moaned. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do,” he replied fiercely. “You deserve me. You deserve those two. You deserve to love.”

“I don't know how this will all turn out, if I do ask them,” he said honestly.

“Well,” Junmyeon said, considering. “I’m already fond of Jongdae. And Baekhyun, I’m sure I’ll get used to him.”

Minseok smiles at that, and Junmyeon took it as a win.

“It will all be okay, my love,” he said, kissing him softly. “Don’t lead them on. Tell them how you feel. It will all be fine.”

The message didn’t really keep, even after he’d made Minseok come twice in his ass. He had spent a night each with them, first with Jongdae, then with Baekhyun, and after Minseok had come home with his eyes red and spirit just visibly _crushed_ and Junmyeon had put his foot down.

 _“Jesus,_ you have a PhD and you practically run the Seoul crime ring, you’re supposed to be smarter than this,” he said. “You’re going to break your own heart this way, and theirs. Just _let them in.”_

So, Minseok finally did, and brought them to the gardens.

And, it was all fine, like Junmyeon said. Really, very _beautiful,_ soft and so much promise in everything. Minseok was so happy, and, Junmyeon found, he was happy too. Everyone was happy.

Minseok always asked him, talked to him about bringing someone else into their soulmate circle, and Junmyeon always supported him, because he knew it wouldn’t make just Minseok happy, but everyone too. Even himself. And he did, come to love everyone in the house. Like he’d gotten seven more loves of his life in it all and he was so _happy,_ taking care of all of them.

And when Minseok had brought Yixing home, he knew. That they were complete, _finally, totally._ Saw that something in Yixing had made them all more complete, and that day, his heart was at its lightest.

“Welcome home,” he told Yixing, and he couldn’t stop the tears in his eyes. He kissed him, just a soft one on the lips, but Yixing deepened it in turn, made him feel so _complete._

“Crazy, isn’t it,” Yixing murmured, and Junmyeon chuckled wetly. Minseok was standing a ways off, watching them, smiling, and Junmyeon drew him in, kissing him as well, and embracing them both.

“Maybe, But. It’s also completely _right,”_ he said, and Minseok gave him the most tender expression, kissing his cheek lovingly, and Yixing hummed, understanding. Agreeing.

.

“What are you doing here?” are Yifan’s first words when Junmyeon opens the door to Minseok’s office at his group’s headquarters, a look less than pleased on his face.

Luhan, sweetheart and Junmyeon’s favorite, says, “Hi, Junmyeon. How are you?”

“See, Yifan, that’s how you say hello,” Junmyeon says, beaming at him, beaming at Zitao next to him, who looks confused at everything, and he goes straight to Minseok, his handsome love of his life number one, looking too good in his black button-down and leather pants, straddling him right in his chair, making him chuckle.

“Hey,” Yifan says, looking surprised, “We’re doing something here-”

“Are you busy?” Junmyeon doesn’t listen to him, leaning down to kiss Minseok wetly.

_“Yes, he is-”_

“We were discussing the plans for the next heist, in Gangnam,” Minseok answers him, hands warm on his ass.

“Oh, so not too busy then,” Junmyeon says brightly, and Luhan laughs, and he can almost hear the frown on Wu’s face.

“Minseok, make him leave.”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Minseok says coolly, smiling at him. Junmyeon smiles right back, truly his soulmate, kissing him again just because. “And I truly don’t want to. It’s our anniversary.”

“How many anniversaries do you have to celebrate, Min?” Zitao asks, and it’s a genuine question, coming from him. Luhan looks at him, blinking, and Yifan rolls his eyes at the whole room.

Minseok just grins at his youngest recruit, and looks at Junmyeon. Reaches into a drawer on his desk, and pulls out a box, saying, “Bunny-”

“That must be a sex nickname,” Luhan says under his breath cheerily.

“-Happy anniversary,” he continues, looking at Junmyeon like he has all the stars in the sky, right in his eyes.

“Thank you, Minnie,” he says, softly kissing him in thanks. Minseok always got him beautiful, well thought out gifts, and when he opens the box, this is really no exception.

 _“Jesus,_ Minseok,” he breathes, staring at the watch, gold and _gorgeous,_ yet understated and the details. He looks at the face, simple enough, but upon closer inspection, he makes a small noise of wonder. Engraved in the gold plated metal is a replica of the tapestry he’d bought from Junmyeon. The first piece he’d bought from Junmyeon, what brought them together.

He doesn’t have words, leans forward and kisses the breath out of him instead, ignoring the other three groaning behind them.

“It’s gorgeous,” he says, lips still lingering over Minseok’s. “Thank you, kitten.”

“Of course,” he says, and his eyes are so, so tender, and Junmyeon loves him _so fucking much._

“That shit can’t have been cheap,” Yifan says.

“Why don’t you get me stuff like that?” Zitao glares at Yifan, who stares back.

“I’m not as rich as Minseok.”

“But you’re rich enough to get your Louis Vuitton everything?”

“Did you get this legally?” Junmyeon asks Minseok, ignoring them and looking at his love as he’s trying it on.

“Yes, I walked into a store and bought it,” he answers, and Junmyeon hums, because it doesn’t matter to him much, but.

“And the money you used to buy it?”

“Well,” Minseok tries to start, before he pauses, and gives him a look.

Junmyeon chuckles, knowing he’s caught, and he climbs off of his lap, saying, “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go-“

“What, wait hold on,” Yifan says, “We’re not done here, we still have to talk-”

“It’s going to have to wait,” Minseok says, standing up as well and gathering his wallet and things. He doesn’t look very apologetic about it, either. “Sorry, it’s my anniversary.”

“You have an anniversary every other month!” he says, but Minseok and Junmyeon are already out the door, fingers linked together, and Junmyeon just grins back at him.

“Did you pack for a few days, like I told you?” Minseok asks him as they’re getting into the car, keeping Junmyeon close as their doors are closed for them.

“I did,” Junmyeon says, “so, where are you taking me?”

“Hmm, Japan,” Minseok says, smile mischievous. “I have a few surprises for you there.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon says, reading the look in his eyes, and he’s in for a fun weekend. He’s already blushing, and Minseok, the shit, is smirking at him. “Stop teasing me.”

“Oh, I’m not teasing you. Yet.”

 _“Shut,”_ he glares at him, but he keeps blushing, so Minseok just keeps smirking. He’s embarrassed, so he asks instead, “Have you ever considered. Maybe bringing them in, like-”

“No, bunny,” Minseok chuckles, rubbing his thigh. “They work for me, that’s different. And they’re all spoken for anyway.”

“Didn’t stop you, with Baek and Dae,” Junmyeon says. “I’m pretty sure Zitao would _love_ to be one of your sugar babies-”

“Wu would have a fit, so, no,” he replies. Junmyeon pouts.

“At least Luhan-”

 _“No,_ Junmyeon,” he says, smirking still. “I mean, maybe before, he’d _love_ it, but he’s had to patch and stitch me up too many times for him to still find me sexy.”

“Hmm. Shame,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok gives him a look, and Junmyeon kisses him, and they’re grinning too much against each other’s mouths for there to be any proper kissing involved. It’s very perfect.

.

.

“Baekhyun.”

“Hmm?”

“Baby,” Jongdae lifts up his chin up slightly from where he had been staring at his untouched food, not quite hungry. “You have to eat a little.”

“Not hungry,” he pouts, and he melts a little, under Jongdae’s gaze. “You heard them, the other night. Junmyeon and Minnie. It means, I must be the only one left.”

“You know, if you wanted, he’ll give you anything you want,” Jongdae tells him, trying to comfort him. “When he comes back from their trip tonight, you know. You can just say you want him, and he’ll give it to you.”

“Not the same,” he sighs, pushing away his plate. “I want the sex limp, hard earned from stealing his clothes.”

Jongdae makes a face, and Baekhyun glares at him. “You don’t get to make that face, you wore his sweater and had to ice your ass. I want to be able to do that.”

“It’s really not that great,” Jongdae says. He’s a horrible liar, and Baekhyun glares twice as hard. “Okay, okay. Fine. Eat first, and I’ll show you something.”

“Not interested.”

“You’re going to get a sex limp so bad you’ll have to take a few days off from rehearsal.”

Baekhyun’s never eaten so fast in his life, scarfs down all the rice and curry and Jongdae stares, maybe a little frightened.

“Didn’t know you wanted his dick this much,” he says when they’re making their way up the stairs, then down to the end of the hall, where Minseok’s master bedroom is.

“Was I not obvious enough? I’m pretty sure you all knew I wanted to be dicked down,” he says, frowning, “I’m positive Kyungsoo blocked my number and all my messages. They all keep bouncing back.”

“Well you keep flooding the group chat,” Jongdae says, sighing, and opening the door for him. “I don’t blame him.”

“So you’re helping me because you want me to shut up?”

“I’m helping you because _I love you,”_ Jongdae says, “and because we all deserve to be fucked well and because you love Minseok.”

Baekhyun pauses to make out with him for a minute, just because he loves him so much.

“Jesus,” Jongdae breathes against his mouth, lips puffy and eyes glazed over from Baekhyun’s thorough kissing.

“You’ll get tons more of that after I get my sex limp,” Baekhyun says, eyes glowing as he pushes him to move.

Jongdae leads them to the walk in closet, and Baekhyun keeps in his whine. “I don’t want to wear something similar to what you guys have already-”

“You big baby, hold on,” Jongdae says, before taking him to the back of spacious closet, to where the wall where the coats are hanging, and he sweeps them aside, and.

“Why’s there a secret door in Minnie’s closet?” Baekhyun blinks, and he ignores Jongdae rolling his eyes. “Is he - holy shit, does he have like a _sex dungeon-“_

“This whole mansion is his sex dungeon, with the way he plows through all of us,” Jongdae says. “I found this by accident, when I was arranging the laundry a few weeks ago and he left it open.”

“Then do you know how to unlock it?”

Jongdae looks at him, sly look on his face. “It doesn’t have a lock.”

“Minnie’s not that stupid,” Baekhyun scoffs. Jongdae just smirks.

“Please. He has a doctorate in musicology, not housekeeping,” he says, before grabbing the knob and twisting it open. He paused, says, “Nevermind, his room is always cleaner than ours, maybe he _does_ have one-“

“Holy _shit,”_ Baekhyun breathes, and comes closer to the shelves the doors hid. It’s not quite a sex dungeon, but.

It’s a closet of sex toys of all sorts; vibrators and plugs of varying sizes and beads and tails and it’s not exactly very hardcore, but it’s the other things he has in there.

“Are those,” Baekhyun swallows, staring at the wide array of straps. Belts and rope and things, he’s sure, that are meant to be tied to the bed and to limbs, and collars. So many of them, and his heart starts racing so pleasantly.

“Most of them seem unused,” Jongdae says, staring at everything as well. “But, I think, he wears the collars and the leather holsters sometimes. When he bends or cranes his neck and he thinks the turtlenecks hide them but they don’t, I see it.”

“Why doesn’t he use this stuff with us?” Baekhyun says, eyes setting on a particular collar. Black, straps joined together with rings, crossing over until it forms a _gorgeous_ piece. “I’m sure the others would be all for it.”

“He has his secrets, you know?” Jongdae answers. It’s quiet then. “Some things, that he can’t just share. At least, not right away. Because we might not understand.”

Baekhyun stands a little straighter. Chooses his words carefully. “So. You’ve noticed, too.”

“It’s hard not to, when he keeps disappearing for hours or days. Sometimes weeks,” Jongdae tells him.

He breathes. “Dae? Is he lying to us?”

Jongdae pauses, as well. “Like I said. There are some things that take time to say.”

“So,” Baekhyun starts. “You know.”

“I think so,” Jongdae says, reaching out to the shelf, where the collar Baekhyun has been eyeing was resting. He picks it up, and gives it to Baekhyun, continuing, “But, in time. I’m sure he’ll tell us. For now, you should get fucked and earn your sex limp.”

.

Jongdae had come back from his night with Minseok, and Baekhyun immediately noticed his eyes, red rimmed, and his lips, kiss swollen, and the marks on his neck, from teeth biting and nipping at skin.

“Dae?” Baekhyun was on his feet almost instantly, and cradling him close. He pressed his lips to his cheeks, and Jongdae hummed gently, a sniff. And he was crying, softly, hiding his face in Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hugging him closer, trying to give him as much comfort as he could offer.

Jongdae nodded, still sniffing. His tears were silent, but Baekhyun could feel them on his skin.

“He was. He was perfect, Baek,” he told him quietly. He sounded so in love, and so sad, and Baekhyun felt his heart break for him. Felt his sadness, shared in it.

“Oh, Jongdae,” Baekhyun murmured, and he embraced him tightly. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry for anything,” he said. “I love you, Baekhyun.”

Jongdae hadn’t told him much else, apart from that. And Baekhyun didn’t ask. That was Jongdae and Minseok’s memory, for them to share, and. He almost didn’t want to know, beforehand. Didn’t want to know what to expect. He didn’t know how to feel.

What he knew, for sure, was that he was quite sure that from the first moment Kim Minseok had come backstage to his and Jongdae’s dressing room, he was very in love.

It had been a conflicting feeling. He was _so_ in love with Jongdae, so sure in their love and he didn’t need anything else. But in walked this beautiful man in all-black and glitter all over his face and just pure magic, and he smiled so softly. His heart didn’t stand much of a chance.

But, the love of his life understood. And comforted him, empathized with him when he admitted ona too drunk night that he had felt the same about the beautiful man in black who always gave them flowers. He was lucky, very lucky, to be with Jongdae. To have Jongdae and his life, and they’d made the decision, after confessing to each other the way they both had felt about Minseok, to try to move on after a night with him.

But Jongdae looked to be more in love than he had been before when he had come back from that night. It had made Baekhyun a little more apprehensive, a little more scared. Of what he might feel, of what Minseok might do to him. About admitting just how much he means to him.

“Baekhyun,” Minseok greeted him with a soft smile, a hand offered out for him to take. He took it, fingers curling into his warm palm, knowing he was safe and he tried not to think too much of what will come after the night. He had a few hours to make a memory, and he would not waste them.

He started by taking the hand. Then, pulling in closer, until their bodies were flush, and he pressed his lips against Minseok’s mouth, soft, and licking in as much as he was allowed.

Minseok hummed against his mouth, reaching up to cup Baekhyun's face in his hands and deepening the kiss, tongue grazing affectionately against his and Baekhyun whines, trying to get closer. As close as he could get, with the time he had.

“Lovely boy,” Minseok said against his lips. “Don’t you want to eat a little first?”

He shook his head, because. He thinks, thinks eating would just be more time without Minseok by his side. Loving him, in him, everywhere. He didn’t want a second wasted.

Minseok seemed to have understood, because he simply nodded, and kissed him again, lips perfect against Baekhyun’s and guiding him along through the hotel room, heated and soft and everything Baekhyun wanted.

First, it was his coat to go, then Minseok black cropped sweater, soft and beautiful but much better being nowhere near Minseok’s body, hard lines and muscle and so _firm_ and hard under Baekhyun’s fingers, and he couldn’t stop touching, but Minseok let him. Then his own shirt, and he gasped into Minseok’s mouth when his fingers explored his skin and words of adoration murmured into his ear, a repeated, _“Lovely, gorgeous, beautiful boy”_ whispered in a voice that made his belly hot and heart race.

Their pants, their underwear, and they were on the bed, and Baekhyun felt so _naked_ under him, and Minseok was so _beautiful_ above him, his body gorgeous and hard and his cock, a thick, _tempting,_ perfect thing, and Baekhyun. Baekhyun didn’t know why, but he was suddenly getting very choked up.

“Oh, you’re _beautiful,_ Baekhyun,” Minseok said, and he felt anything but, but tried not to let his little crisis show on his face. “So, so perfect. Perfect boy.”

He really wasn’t, but he kept his mouth shut. Pulled Minseok’s face down to his and kissed him hard, licked into his mouth and almost short of eating his face, but Minseok yielded under his mouth easily, letting him take everything he wanted. He wanted too much, was the problem.

He reached down to touch Minseok’s cock, making him moan a little as he kissed Baekhyun, and he was so hot, already half hard in his hand and Baekhyun wanted more than anything to have it inside him, in his ass, in his mouth, just wanted as much of it as he could, tonight. He was determined, and schooled his face into not exposing how _shattered_ he felt, from having _just tonight._

Minseok kisses him, so deeply, as if he was pouring his soul into Baekhyun through his mouth and Baekhyun was helpless but to take it, and he was so willing, feeling so selfish, wanting all of it. His legs curled around Minseok’s body, tried to keep him close, wanted to be swallowed up, wanted Minseok to take him.

Wanted him to keep. Wanted Minseok to love him, more than what one night could afford him.

“Baekhyun?” Minseok said suddenly, eyes wide, his hands warm on his cheeks. “Baekhyun, what’s wrong?”

He blinked, not understanding, just feeling Minseok wipe his cheeks carefully, lovingly, his lips pressed against his forehead, then his mouth, and he realized he was gasping, and he was crying, too much, face wet and chest hurting.

“Baby, please. Tell me what is it?” he tried, touching him so tenderly, and Baekhyun shook his head vigorously, tried to get himself to stop crying, but he couldn’t. His chest was _so tight,_ so painful, and he was shaking as he gasped and sobbed, tears pouring out of his eyes, so much of it.

He didn’t understand why, but cry was all he could do. He didn’t know, didn’t feel like he could do anything else but sob and cry, and Minseok tried to comfort him, held him so gently and his words so sweet, so concerned and soft and Baekhyun wanted him forever. He was so sad.

Minseok moves away, and it just made Baekhyun cry all that much more, needed him near, but Minseok was with him again with him seconds, bundling him up in a soft duvet, covering him, curling in next to him in the thick blanket, his arms strong and sure around Baekhyun as he warmed them up.

“Baby, please. Please don’t cry,” he said, kissing him so softly, lips a gentle flutter over Baekhyun’s, and he cried still, comforted but still hurt, because he knew that after his, he would not have the opportunity again. It hurt _so much._

Minseok held him close, drawing his body to his until there wasn’t a any part of Baekhyun’s skin not cradled by Minseok’s warmth, and he felt foolish, for crying just when he and Minseok were about to get intimate. It could have been his only chance, but. He felt that he couldn’t, now.

“Baekhyun, baby,” Minseok tried, voice so soft and full of fondness and affection and Baekhyun tried to stop crying for him, tried to keep himself together, but it was like his heart was commanding his body to give out everything he had, and he was held the entire time. Minseok embraced him closely, tightly, letting him cry, taking in his tears, and it was many minutes before Baekhyun felt that he had given everything he could. Possibly many hours.

As the tears slowed, he trembled, and Minseok held him tighter, closer, endlessly patient, a beautiful man who offered his comfort selflessly, and Baekhyun took selfishly, took everything he could.

They stayed there, silently, as he stopped crying, and he didn’t know what else to do. As much as he wanted to push through and take Minseok in and let Minseok take, he felt that it was something that was no longer something he could do, tonight.

But Minseok. Beautiful, gorgeous, smart, intuitive Minseok, his perfect man, knew. And said instead, “Baby boy, give me a moment.”

He blinked as Minseok slid out of the bed, and was kissed gently, before Minseok disappeared out of the room. He didn’t have much time to doubt himself, think about whether or not Minseok left him naked and alone for the night to go back to his real boyfriend, or. About anything else, as Minseok came back within a moment's notice, and in his hands.

“I hope you like this brand,” he said, smiling softly, opening the large packet of cookies and taking one out, offering it to Baekhyun.

Baekhyun blinked, and his stupid chest felt tight again, but. Not sad.

He was so, so in love. Hopelessly, but. He reveled in it, took it in as it came, and he stopped thinking too much. Smiled, and opened his mouth to bite the cookie offered to him, feeling a warmth that had everything to do with Minseok and his beautiful gummy grin and kind eyes.

“Now,” he said, settling back into bed and pulling Baekhyun into his arms, feeding him the rest of the cookie, “Tell me. Has your dog been well?”

Baekhyun paused, trying to think of where Minseok might be going with this, but he stopped himself. Trusted, and said quietly, “Mongryong is getting too lazy. I fed him too much and I’ve been trying to cut back on feeding him, twice a day instead of the usual three meals, but I know Dae sneaks him treats when he thinks I’m not watching. He’s a lazy dog with a big butt.”

“Hmm, such an adorable creature deserves to be treated well, though,” Minseok said, opening his mouth adorably for the cookie Baekhyun offered him. He’s too cute, and it’s all Baekhyun can do but kiss him, too endeared by his chipmunk face and tasting sweet cookie crumbs and chocolate on his lips.

And this is how the rest of the night had gone, questions and answers and cookies between words.

His rehearsals with the new show, his first as a real working actor out of school.

Musicals he wanted to do in the future, should the opportunity come.

The many things he loved about Jongdae. How they had met, how they had fell in love. How much more in love he is now than he ever was.

Then, “I made you confused, didn’t I?” Minseok asked him honestly.

Baekhyun thought through his answer carefully. “I wasn’t confused. I knew I liked you. More than liked you. I just didn’t know how to deal with it, with Jongdae.”

Minseok was quiet for a while. “I didn’t know how to deal with it, either.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, but Minseok gave him a confused smile.

“Why are you apologizing?” he said. His skin was so warm on Baekhyun’s, their bodies so close. “I watched you on that stage that one night, and it was instant for me. I _knew_ you were someone special, and I knew you would be special, important to me. I don’t regret any moment that I spent getting to know you. Falling for you. I don’t know if you feel the same about me, and if you don’t, I’m sorry for having wasted your time, but. In the very least, I hope you know how beautiful you are. I hope you know that you have made me very, very happy.”

Baekhyun was crying again, and rolling them over so he was above Minseok, and he was kissing him, kissing him deeply until he could taste past the cookie and chocolate to reach the sweetness he could only get from Minseok.

It was barely a moment, and the alarm he had set for himself for the latest possible time he had before he absolutely needed to get back home to prepare for the full day of rehearsals he had, labelled _‘no more no more no more enough enough enough,’_ had gone off, and he sobbed a little against Minseok’s mouth, not wanting to hear it.

The whole evening had passed by, and most of the early morning, and neither of them had even noticed, talking all night and being close and sharing sweetness and softness and it had gone nothing like Baekhyun had thought it would.

It was perfect anyway, so much more than what he thought he deserved, Minseok being too kind, too understanding and gave him the comfort of his voice and words and embrace when he couldn’t push through, a beautiful soul whose warmth he was so fortunate to have been with in this way. And he was crushed that this was it.

Minseok smiled sadly beneath him, understanding. Helped him onto his feet, saying, “I’ll drive you to your place,” to steal just a bit more time. Minutes too precious, and Baekhyun sniffed, wiping at his tears, nodding, taking everything he could get.

Minseok helped him back into his clothes, and he felt a little foolish, standing in front of Minseok as he had sat on the bed and slid on his underwear for him, but the soft kiss placed on his hip before the waistband was pulled over his skin made Baekhyun shiver, treasured and taken care of.

It was quiet, even when they had made their way into the car and out on the road, Minseok driving him through the roads in the very early morning, and Baekhyun wished, for this moment, that there was some real traffic. Anything to delay their imminent separation, the last moments they had together.

Minseok’s palm was warm, firm on his thigh as he drove, and Baekhyun held his hand, fingers locked together, and he willed himself not to be so teary. To take it in as it was, reminding himself that it was much more than he could ever deserve.

It was too soon when Minseok had pulled up next to his building. Baekhyun’s chest hurt in an unpleasant way, willed himself to look at Minseok, who smiled quietly at him.

“I guess. This is it.”

“It seems that way,” he said, and Minseok reached a hand up, his fingers tender on Baekhyun’s jaw. He was truly too perfect, and Baekhyun could barely stand it, that he was not for him to be with.

“Well, before you go,” Minseok started, cradling his jaw, and his eyes. Beautiful, and too much of what Baekhyun can’t bear to part with, “I just wanted to tell you, because you really deserve to hear it and know. That you are the loveliest person I have ever met. The brightest soul. And I am very happy to have met you, to have made you happy, even if just for a short while. And to have fallen in love with you, my greatest privilege.”

Baekhyun’s eyes stung, and he had fallen so deeply in love. Could not bear to part with him.

“Minnie,” he breathed, leaning forward, letting their lips meet, and he tasted him for the last time. Took it all in, breaking his heart. “I _love you, I love you so much.”_

“My darling,” Minseok breathed. His voice was so soft. Pained. _“Thank you.”_

“I love you,” Baekhyun said, one more time. One last time.

He could not keep it together. Not when he was walking out of the car, to the lobby of his building. Not in the elevator. Not when he had made it to his and Jongdae’s apartment, where he had given up and his knees hit the floor, and he had cried, cried until his shirt was wet, and Jongdae had held him close, understanding, not saying anything.

It felt like the end of the world, even though he knew it wasn’t. But it was terribly close.

Then, the miracle of the morning of a weekend, not even a few weeks later. Junmyeon and Minseok, hand in hand, coming into their apartment, and an offer to see the flowers.

He hadn’t left since. Would never leave such a beautiful life.

.

He thinks, out of all of them, he’s the least subtle. And Baekhyun is _proud_ of it, and he fully intends to be not the least bit subtle tonight.

After shooting a quick message Junmyeon, asking if it were okay that he asked Minseok to nail him right after they had gotten back from their anniversary trip, to which Junmyeon had replied with, _‘Don’t make too much noise,’_ and Baekhyun had scoffed, remembering the other night when the whole mansion had heard them fuck in his bathroom, Baekhyun had prepared himself, planning meticulously how he would be dressed and where he would station himself for a fucking of a lifetime. Until the next time.

So, of course that meant when Minseok opens the door to his bedroom later that night, Baekhyun is seated on the middle of his bed, naked, wearing the collar around his neck, the straps and chains falling to rest on his chest, and he has a hand around his cock, slowly stroking, thinking about getting his ass fucked so hard he blacks out, and he’s already hard.

Minseok pauses, staring at him, and Baekhyun feels _delicious._

“Welcome back,” he says, voice a little breathy, a small gasp escaping when he swipes his thumb against the small amount of wetness at the slit, and he feels so, so empty. He watches as Minseok swallows carefully, looking at him, and he wants him to fill him up, _so bad._ “I hope you don’t mind. We found it by accident and. I look _so good_ in it.”

“You do, baby,” Minseok says, staring at the collar, staring at Baekhyun. To his delight, and relief, he’s removing his coat, and then his sweater, revealing his tight muscles and broad chest, and Baekhyun feels his mouth water, licking his lips at the sight. “Naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you, daddy,” he says, gasping again as he strokes himself, crawling to the edge of the bed where Minseok stands, watching him unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, pulling down just enough to get his cock out, and he doesn’t wait. Takes his _perfect_ length in his hands, brings his watering, needy mouth down, and takes the head into his mouth.

Minseok groans above him, making his own cock jump in his hand, and Minseok tastes _so good,_ filling his mouth with all of him as he lowered his head, pushing his cock into his mouth more until he couldn’t take anymore, the rest of what wasn’t inside he wraps his hand around, twisting and pulling as he sucked his cock.

“Oh, baby boy,” Minseok breathes, getting his hand in Baekhyun’s hair and helping him along as he fucked his mouth, and Baekhyun moaned around him, and Minseok was _so good_ to him, filling him up. His cock was heavy, thick, stretching his mouth wide, heady on his tongue and Baekhyun sucked him, let his mouth keep him warm and get him wet. His ass ached, and he wanted his cock inside him. Ream him open and destroying him. He wanted to be fucked by his daddy so _much,_ he was shaking with the need. He almost couldn’t stand it.

Baekhyun whines, whimpers as he opens his mouth as far as he could, wanting, _needing_ more of Minseok in his mouth. He wanted so desperately to be wrecked, and took more, lips stretched wide around Minseok’s girth.

“What a _gorgeous,_ perfect mouth,” Minseok praises, and Baekhyun _moans,_ feeling his cock jump at the words. “So open for me. Getting me so _wet_ for your little hole.”

Baekhyun wanted to sob, was so entirely tempted to get off his cock and turn around and offer his ass for him, but he needed Minseok harder, wanted to draw it out just a little more.

He knows it doesn’t take very long nor very much to get Minseok as hard as he wants him, so he enjoys sucking his cock, getting him hard with his mouth and tongue, and he loves it, loves having him in his mouth, so hot and heavy and his chest is racing.

“Oh, _fuck,“_ Minseok swears, and his fingers curl around locks of his hair, and Baekhyun _moans_ as his hair is pulled, his head moved back and forth on Minseok’s cock. He lets himself be guided on Minseok’s length, lets him take everything he wants, because what he wants is what he wants as well.

He is _too_ desperate for his cock, wants him in his ass sooner rather than later. Maybe even _immediately._

“Minnie,” he pulls himself off his length, hard and wet from his mouth, and his eyes sting slightly as he looks up at Minseok. “Daddy, _fuck._ Daddy, please fuck me.”

“Okay, baby boy,” he says, bending down to press his mouth against his, and Baekhyun licks in instantly, letting Minseok taste himself, and he whimpers against his mouth, as his tongue is swallowed in and Minseok steals he breath right from his lips, making him feel so, so _love_ and taken care of.

“Hmm, I need to prep you,” Minseok says, pushing on Baekhyun’s shoulder gently to get him to lay down on the mattress, but Baekhyun is shaking his head at him, wiggling his body slightly to turn over onto his elbows, presenting his ass out to him, for him to _see._

 _“Fuck,_ Baekhyun, you’re gagging for it,” Minseok breathes when he sees the plug Baekhyun had in his ass, keeping his hole open for him, ready for everything he had to give to him. “Is this, _shit-“_

“I hope you don’t mind, I borrowed something else from you,” he said, voice not quite as controlled as he’d like, but he doesn’t care too much. Just wants Minseok to fuck him, wreck him completely.

Minseok stares, his hands finding their way to Baekhyun's ass, fingers spreading out on his skin, warm on his cheek, and Baekhyun _trembles,_ wants him so much. “Must be stretching your tight little hole wide open for me, hmm, baby boy?”

“Yes, _yes,”_ he cries, pushing his ass up and out even more. “So ready for you, daddy.”

“Hmm. Bet it’s still tight for me,” Minseok says, bringing his length down to rest between his cheeks, sliding on his crack, and Baekhyun is tearing up, feeling him so near yet not inside him yet.

“Yes, _yes, so tight for you,”_ he whines, and the words are getting him even more desperate, and he clenches around the plug, and it’s good, but he needs, _needs_ Minseok’s cock inside him. Needs him to dick him down, make him forget his name, fuck him so hard he can’t walk, can’t move. “Daddy, please. _Please,_ fuck me, I need it. _Need you.”_

“Fuck, _fuck,_ baby boy,” Minseok leans down, turns his head to kiss him, thoroughly, deeply, and Baekhyun is thoroughly winded from it, chasing after his lips when he pulls away. “You’re too much. I love you.”

“I love _you,”_ Baekhyun replies, whimpers, lowering himself down to his elbows, waiting for Minseok to do something.

It doesn’t take him long, and Baekhyun gasps when Minseok traces the end of the plug suddenly, touching the edges where it’s rammed up into Baekhyun’s hole, keeping him stretched open for his cock, and he feels his knees shake beneath him.

“Oh, you constantly surprise me, baby,” he says, and Baekhyun could say the same about him, when he suddenly takes the end and pulls the plug out halfway from his ass, then _slams_ it back in, leaving him no room to breathe or think and Baekhyun _loves it,_ but needs more.

“Minnie, daddy, _please,”_ he cries, planting his face on the bed as Minseok fucks his ass with the plug, pulling it in and out in a vicious pace, the lube making slick noises and it feels good, so good, but it’s not what he’s here for. It’s not what he wants. “Please, _please don’t tease me._ I need you, _you-”_

“The lube and condom, Baekhyun,” Minseok says, his only words, a command, and Baekhyun obeys immediately. Scrambling to get to the small table next to the bed, pulling out everything Minseok needs from the drawer.

He moves back to the foot of the bed, where Minseok is watching him with dark, dangerous eyes, cock standing proudly as he strokes it slowly, watching the plug in Baekhyun’s ass, watching him so desperate for his cock. Baekhyun can hardly wait.

He gives everything to Minseok, getting back on his knees and whimpering when he hears Minseok prepare himself. A crinkle of plastic, and his soft moans as he lubes his cock up for him, and the sound of his pants being removed, hitting the floor.

He waits, everything silent for a minute. He’s just about to beg again when the plug is pulled out of his ass in mere moments, and is replaced _gloriously_ by Minseok’s thick cock, filling him up right to the brim, until he feels his balls against his ass.

Baekhyun sobs, squeezing around his length, so utterly thankful.

“Oh, _baby,”_ Minseok moans, grinding in, and Baekhyun just about falls to the bed, his ass held up by Minseok’s hands, so _fucking full._ “So hot. So tight around me, what a gorgeous ass.”

Baekhyun moans, clenching around his cock, and he feels so warm all over. Feels so fucking open and his body takes him in, all of him, lets him stay in, wants him to swallow him whole. He has no words for it, can’t describe how _turned on_ he feels, how used he feels, how much he loves it.

“Daddy,” he breathes, whining when Minseok pulls out slowly, then _rams_ in, plunging his cock into his ass, using Baekhyun, and he sobs a little, loving it all. “Oh _fuck,_ daddy. Your cock-”

“Yes, baby,” Minseok says, stuffing him, pounding in, giving him everything he wants. “Tell me.”

Baekhyun swallows, hiding his face in his arms as he’s fucked well, fucked hard, and he feels like his brain has melted right out of his head, fucked out of his body, even with just this But he gives him the words anyway, saying between gasps and slaps of Minseok’s hips against his ass, “Your cock. So _thick,_ making me so _full.”_

 _“Gorgeous, gorgeous boy,”_ Minseok praises him, leaning down to the bed to kiss him. Baekhyun turns his head, taking his lips eagerly, licking and letting Minseok love him, give him _so_ much. “You’re too good to me.”

Baekhyun whines, shaking his head, because really. Minseok gave him, gave all of them, _everything._ He was the one good to all of them, but any words he might have had to say out loud to him, he loses, a moan escaping his lips instead when Minseok _drives_ his cock into his hole, filling him up and stuffing him full, a resounding slap of their skin meeting loud in the air and the sting makes Baekhyun cry out of pleasure, feeling so, _so good._

“Beautiful boy,” Minseok says, his hand sliding down his back, his palm making goosebumps erupt in its wake all over Baekhyun’s skin. Then, he touches the collar, touching the straps, the chains, and he pulls a little, not at all enough to choke Baekhyun or do anything dangerous, but it digs into Baekhyun’s skin, reminding him. And he _leaks,_ gets even harder, and his ass tightens even more, so desperate. “Such a gorgeous ass, taking my cock so well-”

“Yes, _oh fuck,”_ Baekhyun cries, gasping and moaning loudly as Minseok brings his body up, hand on his shoulder making him lean up from the bed, and he throws his head back, whining endlessly as Minseok continues to hammer his cock into his ass, cramming him full and the force of it is making him tear up, so good.

Minseok’s pace is vicious, everything Baekhyun wanted as he fucks him, again and again, his own cock swinging and leaking as his ass is taken, brought back to Minseok’s hard length, and he wants more.

“M-Minseok, _daddy,_ more, _please,”_ he begs, tears in his eyes and his whole body trembling with the effort to hold out. “I - _oh god.”_

Minseok lets go of his shoulder, and he falls back down to the bed, hips held up by Minseok’s hands and he’s _fucked,_ ass split open by the most perfect cock, thrusting in and out of his hole, so hungry and greedy and squeezing around everything he’s being given.

“Such a cock hungry boy,” Minseok teases, and he cries, because _yes._ “So needy, so hungry for my cock-”

“Yes, yes, yes, _fuck yes,”_ Baekhyun almost shouts, muffling his voice into the bedding, fingers helplessly grabbing at the covers as he’s plowed into, cock fitting so well into his ass, making him so full, no room for anything but him. “Daddy-”

“Yes, baby boy,” Minseok breathes, leaning down so his body covers Baekhyun’s, rolling his hips and keeping him full. “So warm around me-”

“Daddy, daddy, _fuck,”_ Baekhyun whines, and he tries to move, turn them over so he could grind down on Minseok’s dick and fuck himself, but.

He miscalculates, not realizing how close to the edge of the bed they were, and Minseok tries to hold on, keep them on the bed, but it’s too late. They go toppling down the floor, and Baekhyun yelps, but Minseok turns so that he falls on him and not on the hard ground, catching him in his embrace.

A pause, in which Minseok grunts a little. Then, he says, “A little too excited there, baby.”

“Your cock makes me lose my brain, a little,” Baekhyun breathes, mumbling the words on to Minseok’s chest, a little winded, still hard, his ass open and waiting. “So fucking _hot.”_

“Come on, then, let’s get back on,” MInseok tries, meaning to stand up and bring them back to the bed to continue, but Baekhyun. Baekhyun thinks, and his cock twitches at his thoughts. He pushes Minseok down, back down to the floor, and he stares up at him, confused.

Baekhyun smirks a little, feeling _evil_ and _perfect,_ and sits up. Gets down to sit on Minseok’s lap, sliding Minseok’s cock in between his cheeks, letting him slide into his crack, and he watches as Minseok’s eyes go even darker, his mouth open slightly as he looks up at Baekhyun.

“You look good down there,” he says, pushing his hands down onto Minseok’s belly, rolling his hips, eyes shutting as he focuses on Minseok’s length, rubbing against his ass. He’s teasing Minseok, and himself, and he brings one of his hands up, rolling a nipple between his fingers and moaning, feeling filthy and hot.

“My view is even better,” Minseok says, staring up at him with a heated gaze, making Baekhyun’s heart race and his whole body shiver, and he reaches back, until he’s stroking Minseok’s cock, teasing him with the nearness of his hole.

Minseok growls, but doesn’t push. Brings his hands to Baekhyun’s thighs and squeezing, nails biting into the met of his legs gently.

Baekhyun looks at him, swallowing his heart down, so stupidly in love with him and his chest is so tight with _feelings,_ gross and overwhelming and he’s had enough teasing. Wants his cock in his ass and wants to wreck himself on his length.

He guides him into his hole, wet and gaping and desperate to be filled, and he sinks down, taking his thick and perfect cock into his ass, down, more and more, until he was full of him, sitting on his length proudly, moaning as he adjusted around him, stretched wide.

“Baekhyun, baby, _fuck,”_ Minseok breathes, hands clenching on his thighs. “Such a tight ass, but you take me so well-”

 _“Fuck, fuck,_ love you. Love your cock, _fuck,”_ Baekhyun whines, one hand reaching down to intertwine fingers with Minseok, the other sliding up his body, pausing on his nipplejust under one of the chains of the collar, twisting and teasing for a moment, and the growl Minseok makes at the sight makes him flush, moan as he rolls his hips, moving on his cock and fucking himself.

He moves his hand up further, groaning as he takes his hair into his hand and _pulls,_ shouting as he throws his head back, feeling _filthy, wonderful_ as he went on, fucking, riding Minseok hard into the floor, his own cock swinging, spilling little streams of white as they fucked.

“Touch yourself a little more, baby boy,” Minseok says, voice so _hot_ and hard and Baekhyun felt himself melt at the command, and he obeys instantly, helpless to Minseok’s voice. He moved his hands up first, into his hair and _pulling_ hard, making himself whine as he rolls his hips, figure eight motions on Minseok’s cock, and Baekhyun feels _so good,_ full of dick and feeling like such a good boy, making himself feel good, making his daddy feel good too.

He moves his hands down, pulling at the collar a little, dragging his fingers down, to his belly, where he could _swear_ he could feel Minseok’s dick, then down, down, ignoring his cock, leaking and red and hard, and he angles a bit to reach his balls, heavy and aching and his chest shudders. He’s overwhelmed with it all, his whole body trembling with the effort not to come, not just yet, but Minseok, perfect, cruel thing he is, grabs his hips, and _drives_ up into Baekhyun’s body, filling him up so full and hard and Baekhyun cries, ass shaking, cock spurting just a little more, and he’s so close to spilling tears, so turned on, so fucked.

“Fuck, _daddy, fuck, fuck-”_

“Ride me, baby,” Minseok said, voice too calm, thrusting up into him one more time, and Baekhyun sobs. Pushes Minseok down to the floor, hands on his chest, and he _rides,_ dropping his ass down and _slamming_ onto his cock, over and over, ass so wrecked, his hole hungry and greedy for Minseok’s cock, taking him again and again. He almost couldn’t stand the pleasure, feeling it right down to his toes, his teeth.

The chains on his skin were cool, a small relief on his overheated skin as he fucked himself on Minseok’s length, the collar not tight, but so present around his neck, very much felt as he breathed in, circling his hips on Minseok’s cock continuously, never pausing, fucking down on his perfect man’s perfect dick.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ so fucking good,” he breathes, then cries, riding Minseok harder, so thoroughly fucked.

“Gorgeous, baby,” Minseok tells him, his hands moving to his backside, and smacking his ass lightly. It wasn’t much, more of a firm little pat, but Baekhyun was gasping, melting into him and he cries, finally, so overwhelmed. He felt too good, fucked so well, and the tears were a relief as the rolled down his cheeks, as he went on, sinking down on Minseok’s length. “You’re doing so well.”

 _“Daddy,”_ Baekhyun moans, sobbing a little, clenching his ass around him and his hands spasming on Minseok’s chest as he kept throwing his ass back on his cock. “Fuck, _please.”_

“Baby boy need to come?” Minseok asks, slapping his ass again softly, and Baekhyun is so weak for it. “Need me to fill that hungry little hole? Come all over your ass-”

 _“Yes, yes, all of it,”_ Baekhyun sobbed, slamming himself down harder, faster, Minseok’s cock so hard inside him, and he fucks himself, chest tight and his own length ready to blow, and he pulls on the hanging ends of the collar, desperate to hold on to something, anything. Trying to keep himself tethered to the moment, but Minseok’s cock is heavenly inside him, stretching him open wide and perfect and he’s in heaven, fucking on the floor of Minseok’s bedroom, riding his cock.

Minseok growls again, and he moves them so quickly, turning their bodies over and Baekhyun’s on his back on the floor, half on the carpet and half on the hardwood, and he whines, hole empty when they had rolled over and switched positions.

“Brat,” Minseok teases, and stuffs him full with his cock, in one thrust, and Baekhyun opens his mouth in a silent sob, a whine that gradually increases in volume as Minseok picks up his previous pace, plunging his cock deeply into his open, willing ass, and Baekhyun can barely think. Takes it all in, moaning again and again as he’s fucked on to the floor.

“Daddy, _oh. Oh,_ feel so fucking good, so thick, _fuck,”_ he rambles, words leaving him blissfully as Minseok fucks into him, plowing into him. He feels it, early as now, he won’t be able to walk with how hard Minseok is giving it to him, fucking him over and over and he’s so _fucking pleased._ Splays his legs open wider, making more room for him, spreading his ass further for him to sink in deeper, rougher. “Harder, please. Until I can’t walk.”

“You want that, gorgeous?”

_“Yes.”_

And Minseok _gives_ it to him, generously, overflowing. Takes Baekhyun’s hands into his, bringing them above his head, and _fucking_ into him. Slamming his cock into Baekhyun’s all too willing body, making him sob with pleasure, writhe around but unable to do anything but _take_ it, happily, eagerly.

“Oh, _oh, Minseok,”_ he sobs, shaking as his ass is fucked.

“Yes, baby boy,” Minseok moans, ramming his cock in, hard, and Baekhyun can’t remember anything. Not his name, where he is, nothing, but Minseok and his perfect dick, reaming him out. “Perfect little hole, perfect boy, so _hot_ around me-”

Baekhyun shouts, endlessly, as he comes. He spills, exploding, white spurting from the slit so hard he feels it on his chin, his neck, and there’s so much of it. He comes, so hard, and it makes him black out for a few moments, or maybe several.

When he comes to, Minseok is still above him, inside him but motions paused, concerned look on his face as he cups Baekhyun’s face.

“Oh. I passed out?” he asks, blinking blearily, tiredly, so fucking satisfied.

“Are you alright, baby?” Minseok asks, voice soft, eyes on him. “I, fuck, I was too rough-”

“No, _no,_ you’re perfect. Everything I wanted and _more,”_ he hums, locking his legs around Minseok’s waist, and he’s still hard inside him. He’s not wasting a good erection. “Gonna get the sex limp of all sex limps. Hmm, fuck me.”

“Baekhyun, you _just passed out.”_

”Your dick powers are just _that_ extraordinary, what can I say?” he says, smiling, maybe drooling a little. He can’t be too fucked to be embarrassed about it, rolling his hips, moaning as Minseok’s cock jumps a little inside him. “Oh, _oh._ Come in me.”

“Baby-”

“Oh, _oh,_ daddy, _fuck,”_ he whines, still moving his ass beneath him, feeling _good_ still, the sensitivity from having just come making everything all the more heightened. “Pease, fuck me.”

“Baek.”

_“Please.”_

And Minseok, thankfully, can’t tell him no.

Or, maybe a little unthankfully, because Minseok fucks into him, too gently, too slowly, but Baekhyun is a brat, whines and moves his hips back below him, getting him a little more deeper.

“Minnie, that can’t be it,” he pouts, closing his eyes and moaning loudly, on purpose, exaggerating his expression, his volume. “Oh, _oh, fuck, daddy-”_

“Baby, don’t taunt me, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Baekhyun growls, surprising himself, but he doesn’t pause. “Minseok. Please, fuck me.”

Minseok stares at him. Then, “You tell me if it hurts-”

“I promise,” he says, but he adds, assuring, bring one of their joined hands down to touch the collar around his neck, reminding, “Please. Make me feel it. You’re so good.”

Minseok’s eyes go even darker, and Baekhyun wins. He _fucks_ him, hard and rough as he spears him with his length, his ass so open and fucked loose and getting looser, and it’s so good.

Baekhyun moans, feeling perfect and fucked and Minseok plows into him, making soft, muted noises as he fucks him, his body so reassuringly strong and warm above him, in him, all around him.

He goes even harder, pushing Baekhyun’s body up on the floor a little, fucking him too hard, and he sets a palm next to Baekhyun’s head as he rams into him. Baekhyun steals the breath from his lips, still whining, feeling so good, so perfect.

“Oh, _oh,”_ he sobs, tearing up again with pleasure as Minseok doubles his already quick pace, sinking into him so fast, and he’s sensitive all over, loving everything. “Daddy, _fuck.”_

“Good, baby boy?” he asks, words short, losing his measured pace slightly as he fucks harder, getting closer to coming.

“Oh, _fuck._ So good, _it’s so good, daddy,”_ he whimpers, his ass stretched so wide around his cock. “Oh. Please don’t stop, please. _Use me-”_

 _“Fuck,”_ Minseok moans, fucking him in no ordered manner, then pulling out suddenly. Baekhyun watches blearily as he strips off the condom, and doesn’t even touch himself, shooting all over Baekhyun. All over his wet, softening cock, his belly, his chest. Over some of the bottom of the collar, and Baekhyun licks his lips, bringing a hand down to smear his come all over his skin, filthy, gorgeous.

“Hmm, _there’s so much,”_ he murmurs happily, spreading their come everywhere on his torso, and Minseok makes a face, reaching down to wipe it with his discarded shirt, but Baekhyun pouts, curling away from him. _“No.”_

“Baby, that’s not sanitary,” he says, but he sounds fond.

“I’m sure there are some sort of skin healing properties,” he says, but really. He’s just, “Leave me be, I’m your come slut.”

“You’re still going to need to shower,” he sighs, but he lowers his body back down anyway, covering Baekhyun and kissing him, lips soft and warm against Baekhyun’s mouth, and he sighs, fucked and reamed out and aching and super happy. “Are you okay? Hurt anywhere?”

“I’m more than okay. I’m so fucking happy,” he grins, pulling Minseok’s face down again to kiss him deeply. “Oh. Thank you, Minnie.”

“I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you,” Minseok says, chuckling quietly, eyes so bright. Baekhyun loves him a lot.

“Well. Eight out of eight, and you ended with the best,” he declares, and Minseok smiles at him, so fucking fondly, and Baekhyun just grins up at him.

“Eight out of eight, yes,” Minseok says, still smiling, mirth in his eyes, but he makes a tired, exhausted noise. “You’re all too much. I live in a house of brats.”

“Brats you _love,”_ Baekhyun sings, and Minseok chuckles, kissing him again. They should move off the floor, maybe back to the bed. Definitely in need of a shower, but Baekhyun koalas him, wrapping his limbs around Minseok, effectively keeping them on the floor. It’s quiet,entirely comfortable, and Baekhyun asks him in a soft voice, “How was your trip with Junmyeon?”

“Hmm, it was good,” Minseok replies, blinking slowly in the low light, the lateness of the hour. “Went to a lot of new places this time. Tried new things-”

“Sex things?”

“Baekhyun, baby, please,” Minseok says, still sounding so affectionate, and Baekhyun grins up at him. His heart is so warm.

“Do you, maybe. Want to have dinner together, tomorrow?” he asks quietly. “Jongdae introduced me to his friend’s place, it’s yummy. You would like it.”

“Ah, I would really like to,” Minseok says, but he pauses, and Baekhyun knows what it means. Had taken him some time to figure out, but he sees it now. Knows, understands what it is, and his smile drops slightly. “But. I’m sorry, I have to go do something.”

“For what?” he asks, wanting to see what Minseok will say to him. He doesn’t quite lie, but he hides the truth.

“I have some prior work commitments to attend to,” Minseok tells him, leaning down to kiss his nose, must mistake his fallen expression for disappointment. It’s not quite disappointment Baekhyun feels, though.

“At your job.”

“Well, yes. At work,” Minseok says, slowly, looking at him, trying to gage what he’s not saying.

Baekhyun pauses. Keeps himself quiet.

He thought, maybe, when he would ask Minseok about it. It would certainly not be post-sex, very _vigorous_ fucking, on the floor of Minseok’s room, wearing one of his secret sex collars, come smeared all over his torso.

But, he doesn’t stop the words when he says in a soft voice, “So, is another gang bothering you again, this time?”

He watches as Minseok’s eyes go wide, too wide, tinged with fear. Such a foreign look on his face, and Baekhyun doesn’t like himself, then, for making Minseok look like that.

Minseok tries to move away, and he stops him, curling his arms over his neck, kissing him, trying to calm him. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Baekhyun, Baekhyun,” Minseok tries, but can’t finish what he wants to say. He looks like he’s about to cry, like he’s let Baekhyun down. Like he’s let all of them down, by keeping this from them. Baekhyun holds him close, tries to give him all the love he can give to him, everything he has. “I. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to hide it from us, you know?” he tells him softly.

Minseok blinks nervously. “Do, do all of you know?”

“Me. Dae,” he says, and Minseok trembles. “We’ve suspected, for a while. And. You’ve already told Yixing and Junmyeon.”

“I didn’t tell them,” he tells him, and he hasn’t stopped shaking. Baekhyun feels worse, for making him so nervous, so scared, of revealing the truth, of losing any of them. He won’t. Baekhyun knows he won’t. “They, they knew me, from before. Before I took over my father.”

“So you chose not to tell the rest of us,” Baekhyun says, careful to keep his voice low, gentle. Holds his face, kisses him again. Minseok sniffs, and Baekhyun embraces him, kissing his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Minseok just repeats, voice shaky. “How, how did you find out?”

“You were always gone, for so long,” he says. Chooses his words, tres to word it properly, doesn’t want Minseok to misunderstand. “Junmyeon and Yixing, they kept your secrets well, but. Once, when we were doing the laundry. There was blood on your clothes. Not a lot, maybe just enough that it could pass off as a careless cut, but. You’re _always_ careful. You would be so _tired,_ and Jongdae and I, we were worried.”

“I’m sorry, for worrying you,” Minseok says, and Baekhyun shakes his head. He doesn’t have to. Baekhyun won’t let him feel guilty for this, for trying to protect them.

“I, I don’t know how Dae found out, but,” he says, considering, “I overheard you. Talking with someone, once, on the phone, someone named _‘Wu,’_ and I asked around. And. Xiumin.”

“I’m sorry,” Minseok says, again, and he’s withdrawing into himself, and Baekhyun holds him tighter still, trying to keep him here. With him, needs it in the open, at least between the two of them, first.

Needs him to know, that, “Minnie. I’ve known for a while. And, I promise you, I love you the same as I always have. Even more.”

“I don’t deserve it,” he says, and Baekhyun shakes his head.

“No, none of that now,” he tells him. There’s wetness on his fingers, where his hands are on Minseok’s face, and he leans up, kissing away Minseok’s tears. “Minseok. I’ve had my time to make peace with it. And, you know. It doesn’t define you. I know who you are, we all do. You show us the best, most important parts of you, and really. It doesn’t change anything.”

“It does-”

 _“No, it doesn’t,”_ he says. “Listen to me. _I understand._ I may not know the reasons why you do it, but I understand _you._ And I know that you are still you.”

Minseok cries quietly, no noises, and Baekhyun envelopes him in his warmth, ignoring drying come and the collar and sweat and holding him.

Baekhyun kisses him, tries to comfort him in the ways he could. Thinks cautiously, says, “Are. Are you scared we’ll tell people? Do you not trust us to keep this for you?”

Minseok shakes his head, minute movements, but Baekhyun understands. Cups his face a little closer, waits for him patiently, the way Minseok always is with him. With all of them.

“It’s not that. I, I don’t care, about who I am, in that world,” he says, voice soft. “I’m. I’m scared. That I’ll, I’ll lose any of you. If, if I say anything. I wouldn’t stop you from leaving, because this was my mistake. But, I’m still scared.”

Baekhyun’s heart broke. “But, Myeonie and Xing. They stayed. And I’ll stay. And I’m sure Jongdae will never leave you, either,” he says. Minseok shakes his head again, but Baekhyun needs him to hear it. Needs him to believe him, when he says, “None of us will leave you. I know, _I know_ we wouldn’t.”

“But, Xiumin. This is a lot to handle, Baekhyun,” Minseok says. He looks discouraged, and Baekhyun won’t let him be. “It’s a very heavy secret. I wouldn’t blame them, if they left.”

“But they won’t,” he says. Confidently, surely, because he knows his soulmates. Knows them well. “I promise you. You need to tell them. It might hurt them, I can’t guarantee you that they won’t be.”

Minseok makes a soft, hurt noise, and he lowers his head slightly, crying a little more freely. Baekhyun wants to cry, too, but keeps it in. Has been fucked out of tears.

“But. I can guarantee you that they will stay, with you. They won’t leave your side,” he tells him. “We love you. We won’t leave you. You’ve given us _so much._ You love us so much. Please believe me. Please.”

Minseok doesn’t lift his head for a very long time. Baekhyun is scared, suddenly. Maybe regretting bringing it up now after such a perfect night. Regrets making Minseok feel scared, and he loves him so much. Holds him close, tries to assure him as best as he can.

Big shit, crazy powerful, super dangerous monster/mafia leader Kim Minseok alias Xiumin, most secretly influential man in probably the greater Asia region, crying because he was scared of the possibility of losing any of his babies. Thinking of it, on paper, Baekhyun thought that he would have teased him, made a little fun of him for being sensitive.

But seeing it, actually being with him, having Minseok cry and spill silent tears onto his skin, nothing is funny at all. Baekhyun can almost _feel_ the dread, the fear in Minseok’s chest, and he almost cradles him in his arms, a little difficult being below him, but he does it anyway. Holds him close, hugs him tightly.

Slowly, eventually. After several minutes of quiet and breathing a crying, Minseok slowly stops shaking. Baekhyun lifts his head up, just a little, and Minseok takes some time before he can meet Baekhyun’s gaze with his own red eyes.

“And if you’re going to make us leave to keep us safe, _don’t,”_ he says, and Minseok looks at him. “I know. And I want to be with you still, because _I accept you._ All parts of you. And I know we all would, if you told us. In your time.”

Minseok looks at him, not saying anything for a while. Then, eventually, he nods, “okay. I promise.”

And it’s enough. Baekhyun kisses him, lips warm together, and it’s relief, comfort, and lightness.

.

Later, after they’ve both lounged in the bathtub for a good hour or so, Baekhyun spoiling him with so many kisses and wet hugs and comfort, and are on the bed, naked still and working up to another, much softer and much less intense but still really good round, Baekhyun gasping as he’s fingered open, Minseok tells him gently, “Please promise me something too.”

“W-What?” he says, whimpering as there are two fingers in then, working into his hole.

“Please. If any of you want. Want me to fuck you, just ask,” he says, inserting a third finger, and Baekhyun is still losses from earlier, thoroughly fucked by his thick cock, but it still feels _so_ good. “None of this stealing my clothes business.”

“But, _oh,_ we. _Shit,_ we look good in your stuff, don’t we?” he asks, and Minseok hums.

“Yes, but it’s besides the point,” he says. “I’m running out of clothes.”

“You have the biggest wardrobe out of all of us, Minnie,” he gasps, straight up moaning when his cock is stroked while Minseok’s other hand gets him ready for his dick.

“Disperse the memo,” he says, smiling gently as he removes his hand, and traces his hole with his beautiful cock. “And. About the other thing. In time, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask,” Baekhyun says, and his mouth drops right open as his ass is stretched around his cock for the second time that night. A perfect gift.

.

.

Kyungsoo is the first to cash in on the memo.

“I want to be fucked in the Ferrari,” he says, right as dinner ends and they’re all cleaning up.

Chanyeol chokes on his ice cream. Junmyeon drops the pile of used chopsticks he’d gathered. Everyone else stares.

“Good boy,” Minseok says, smiling, easily agreeing, standing up to go with him and fulfill his request with a lot of enthusiasm.

 _“No fair,”_ Baekhyun pouts. Jongdae gives him a sympathetic look, Kyungsoo promptly ignores him. “I was planning to ask you first.”

“You got him last,” Kyungsoo says, tangling fingers with Minseok ready to get his ass nailed.

“Now, now,” Minseok says, smiling at them both. At them all. Looks at the faces of those who don’t know yet. Young, not innocent, but there’s much they need to know. In time. “We can always do it _together,_ yes?”

Baekhyun blinks. Kyungsoo blinks. They look at each other, and after a moment, they shrug.

“Soo has a wicked mouth, I’ll win either way,” Baekhyun says cheerfully, stepping up from where he had been discarding the scraps into their small bin for compost and fertilizer, and taking Minseok’s other hand, smiling at the prospect already. “Ah. But will we fit in the Ferrari?”

“I’m going to kick you out, Byun,” Kyungsoo says nonchalantly, and Minseok smiles, guiding them both, letting himself be guided as well.

They’ll stay. He hopes. He starts to believe.

.

**Author's Note:**

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